


Flames

by combatfaerie



Series: Flames [1]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Don’t copy to another site, F/M, Sexual Content, rollynch
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2020-05-18 19:55:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 42
Words: 139,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19341511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/combatfaerie/pseuds/combatfaerie
Summary: Becky Lynch and Seth Rollins have known each other for years. But how did they go from friends and co-workers to something more?





	1. Summerslam 2018

Some wrestlers didn't like having the first match on the card. The audience was still straggling in. People didn't always tune in to the pay-per-view right away. It was basically one step above being in the bittersweet kick-off show match. Seth didn't mind so much. He took it as a challenge to set the bar for the night to come, and while his match against Dolph hadn't been one of his top five, he still thought it got the night off to a good start. He had won the intercontinental title for the second time and Dean's appearance in his corner brought a big pop, so he was happy with the outcome.

He was also still backstage when he didn't have to be. One of the perks to an early match was being able leave early, or at least being able to settle in and enjoy everyone else's matches. His post-bout interview was already done and he had cut a few promos before getting changed, and he could have been long gone. But he was still there in the back, feet propped up on his bag as he watched one of the monitors.

He knew without looking that it was Dean who had flopped down beside him, legs sprawled out. "What's up? Why are you still here?"

Seth wasn't quite sure himself. It wasn't like he didn't know what was supposed to happen. He could have easily watched it in his hotel room. But he wanted to be there. There was a certain energy to all pay-per-views, but the big four were special, and depending on how things went down in the upcoming women's match, the women's evolution was going to take a monumental turn. "I thought I'd stick around for the women's triple threat," he said easily, leaning back in his chair.

Dean nodded, settling in as well. "Becky's turning heel tonight, yeah?"

Seth didn't reply right away. Years had passed since he had betrayed the Shield and it was still one of his most iconic moments, one that was replayed over and over. If Becky played it right, turning on Charlotte could catapult her career. "Yeah. I'm just wondering how it'll go over." The audience's expectations of the women's behaviour could be difficult to predict. There had been a lot of support for Becky in the past few months, but breaking up a friendship could put her in 'petty bitch' territory for some fans.

Dean didn't reply, and Seth refocused on the monitor. He hadn't really been looking for company, but Dean was good at being present without being distracting, and maybe having a friend on hand would make his lingering presence less obvious.

*

Right up until the moment Charlotte whispered in her ear, Becky still wasn't sure. She wanted the moment. She wanted the push, the energy, the spark. It was all there, hers for the taking.

But taking it meant losing other things. As soon as she turned against Charlotte, there would be no more cute pictures on Instagram, no fun quips on Twitter. No more coffee dates with her best friend. They would be able to hang out in private and backstage, but out in the public eye, it would be fierce animosity. Normally Becky didn't have a problem getting in character, but none of her previous characters had threatened to impact her personal life quite like this.

So she did her best to move with the energy, focussing on the moment. When she felt Charlotte hit that last fateful move, she focussed on the rumbles in the crowd—the gasps, the disbelief. Then there was the pinfall, the announcement; the disappointment on her face and the slump to her shoulders didn't have to be faked at all. 

And then there was the embrace, the last moment to change the trajectory. But Charlotte just smiled and met her gaze, bending close enough that her lips brushed Becky's ear. "Straight fire," she whispered, her mouth hidden by Becky's hair; they didn't want any keen lip readers to see.

Straight fire.

The initial hit was almost lost in the roar, so loud it was like an avalanche pressing in on all sides. Applause, yelling, raucous joy as the long-suffering Lass Kicker beat down the always-favoured Queen. YES-YES-YES chants. _You deserve it!_ For her or for Charlotte, or both? Becky couldn't let herself stop to think about it. She had to ride the moment, using her pent-up frustration to leave Charlotte beaten while she strode away, head high and spirits higher.

In the back of her mind, she had always hoped that the fans would understand. The frustration of being constantly overlooked certainly wasn't exclusive to the WWE. She even thought she might get a few cheers from the fans who were tired of Charlotte getting endless opportunities, but she hadn't expected the outpouring that was almost like relief. She had to fight the smile tugging at her lips until she was backstage, and even then she knew there would be an interviewer waiting in the wings, primed to pepper her with questions about why she had just betrayed her best friend.

"About time, Irish." Becky almost stumbled as she turned to see Seth and Dean watching one of the backstage monitors, the cameras now focussed on Charlotte's dismayed face. "Good job."

Coming from Seth, it was high praise. His betrayal of the Shield was still talked about four years later; it would be in his retirement package, his Hall of Fame video, any retrospective the WWE ever did on him. If ever there was someone who knew how to navigate the particular waters she was about to find herself in, it was Seth Rollins. "Thanks. I—"

As if on cue, one of the backstage interviewers poked her head around the corner. "Becky! Come on. We're waiting on you."

"Right." Then Becky nodded at Dean and Seth, picking up the pace as she went to follow the interviewer to the backdrop where a camera crew would be waiting. In her head, she was going over what she would say, but it was really Seth's words that kept echoing in her mind.


	2. "The Man"

Becky still heard the roar in her head every time she went out to the ring. The pops at the house shows maybe weren't quite as loud as her Summerslam moment, but the same energy was there. Anyone who had been overlooked or pushed aside could see themselves in her story; anyone who had fought to keep their identity and their dreams intact when the pressure to conform pressed in at every side knew where she was coming from. She wasn't one of the blondes Vince liked so much; she hadn't tracked her paycheques in terms of boob jobs or other enhancements. And here she was. The Man.

Of course, having to explain the concept of 'The Man' over and over was getting annoying, but it was a small price to pay. She was finally appearing on the posters, in the big matches. Now when she spoke, people listened. After Evolution, Becky's dream of main-eventing Wrestlemania wasn't as distant as it had been even a few months ago. Years ago, people would have laughed at the idea of women having the big match; now, thanks to the buzz she was building with both Charlotte and Ronda, it was a very real possibility.

She just had to keep her eyes on the prize. So why was she baiting Seth Rollins on Twitter? Becky wasn't fully sure herself. Ronda was too easy to demolish online; there was no challenge in that. Some of the women in the division could keep up, but Becky also knew if she wanted to call herself 'The Man', then she would also have to deal with the last person to claim the title.

"Cute little flame pants?" Charlotte read with a chuckle over her shoulder. Since they couldn't be amicable in public, they could only hang out during their time off, so they had started lingering backstage after the shows, bouncing ideas off each other.

Becky turned and rolled her eyes, trying to tilt her phone so Charlotte couldn't read the screen. Charlotte had the advantage of a longer reach, though, so she intercepted it easily. "They aren't even pants. . . ."

"Well, you did call his gear 'trunks' to be fair," Charlotte replied, scrolling back through the twitter war between Becky and Seth, laughing the whole time. "You two are as bad as little kids."

Snatching her phone back, Becky logged out and stood. "What do you mean?"

"You know how when little kids like someone, they tease them?" Charlotte gestured to the phone in Becky's hand. "Like I said, bad as little kids. Come on, Becks. Let's go get something to eat."

It was hard to argue with food and some extra time with Charlotte, but that didn't stop Becky from muttering "Am not" under her breath.

*

Survivor Series season was always electric. Seth missed the traditional matches, but the invasions Raw and Smackdown had done in the past couple years were always worth watching. Add in the feud between Becky and Ronda, and they had to make the viewing room backstage bigger to keep all the Raw stars out of sight of the roaming cameras.

Finn was sitting beside him this time, not Dean, but the anticipation still felt the same to Seth. They all knew roughly how it was going to turn out, but the finished, live product was a beast of its own making. Put Becky Lynch into that equation and anything could happen.

First the Dis-Arm-Her on Ronda, then walking—no, strutting—out to the ring when seven Raw women were already there and waiting for her took some guts. "Good odds for The Man, I'd say," Finn grinned.

Seth kept his grumble to himself. He'd claimed the title years ago, but even he had to admit that Becky had earned the right to wear it too. Now the Smackdown women were storming the ring, but it was still Becky that drew his eye.

Then there was the punch. It was hard to track at first. The cameras didn't have a great angle on it, but as soon as Becky was shown on the mat, hand to her face, Seth knew it didn't look right. "What the hell, man? What happened?"

"Nia's fist happened, by the looks of it." Finn's impish joy had dimmed considerably as he watched. Blood was smeared across Becky's face and arms, but she was still going at it, battering Ronda with a chair while the other Smackdown women cleared the ring.

By the time Becky finally left the ring, gently ushered by Peyton Royce, the source of the blood was more obvious, and people backstage were already scrambling. Out of the corner of his eye, Seth saw Sasha and Bayley running towards the vehicle bay, but his gaze was drawn back to the monitor, to Becky at the top of the stairs, arms spread wide and freckled with her own blood. That was an iconic shot right there; just like her attack on Charlotte, it would be in any retrospective she had, the closing shot of her Hall of Fame video. Becky Lynch: The Man.

"Ambulance," Finn said, breaking Seth's reverie with a pat on the knee. "Standard, right? Whenever there's blood from the head?"

Seth nodded, but he wasn't really listening. The chaos backstage was louder now and even though the monitor was showing something else completely, he couldn't get the image of a triumphant Becky out of his head.


	3. Royal Rumble 2019

He wasn't going to say anything. At least that's what he told himself. She was trying to get a reaction, after all, and he wasn't going to oblige. Then he saw a familiar streak of bright orange hair and before he knew it, Seth was on his feet and heading after her. Becky was going back to Ireland for Christmas, he knew, so he was running out of chances.

"You think you're The Rock now or something?" he called out.

Surprised, Becky turned around, nearly colliding with someone from security. Glancing around, she didn't see anyone else Seth could be talking to, so she stopped and went over to him. "The Rock? What are you talking about?"

Seth held out his phone and took the video off pause. It was a promo Becky and A.J. Styles had done, answering questions submitted by fans. When it got to the right segment, he turned up the volume. As she listened to her comments, Becky didn't even blink. "I _know my role_ now, do I?" Seth echoed with a laugh. "Really? I thought you were supposed to be the new Steve Austin, not Dwayne Johnson."

Becky just laughed and pointed to the gorilla position. "If you want to fight for the title of The Man," she said simply, "the ring's still up." Then she grinned. "But only if you wear your flame pants."

She started laughing a moment before he did, and she winked before getting back on her way. Seth watched her go, still smiling and laughing as he shook his head. The mantle of The Man was a heavy one; maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing to share.

*

The waiting was always the worst part. Normally the storylines were already sewn up before a show, let alone a pay-per-view, but for some reason the brass were still debating about how to put Becky and Ronda on a collision course. Becky didn't think it was that difficult. She had already lost to Asuka at the top of the Royal Rumble—and she could only hope they would give Asuka a good title run too, because she definitely deserved it. But now the bosses were debating whether to put her in the women's Royal Rumble match or find some other way to reignite the feud that had been unceremoniously curtailed just before Survivor Series.

She was sitting on one of the huge prop trunks in the back, heels thudding against the side, trying not to stare a hole through the door of the office where Stephanie and Triple H were trying to work their magic on Vince. "Vince and his blondes," she muttered, taking a deep breath. As of that moment, the plan was still to have Ronda and Charlotte square off at Wrestlemania. All that hard work Becky had done, all the self-promotion on Twitter, all the investment of the fans—it was all going to fall flat again.

"Hey, Irish." Becky glanced up to see Seth approaching. "Why are you hanging out in the lap of the gods?" It wasn't a term widely used backstage, but some of them had started calling the area outside the McMahons' office 'the lap of the gods'. Sometimes it certainly felt like a Greek myth, the hero doing everything right and yet failing because of the whims of some fickle god. 

"Waiting to hear if they're going to put me in the Rumble," she replied, gaze flicking over to the door. No movement yet, and she could barely hear anything. That wasn't promising.

"They should." Then Seth grinned. "Then we can both fight in our flame gear at Wrestlemania so you can shut up about it already."

Becky couldn't help but smile. "Me shut up about it? I haven't mentioned it all year!"

"All year?" Seth laughed. "Irish, January's not even over yet!"

"Doesn't make it any less true," Becky replied, shaking her head. She missed this, the goofing around and the puns. She loved being The Man, but it was nice to let her humorous side out too. "I haven't mentioned it all year." Then she stopped herself. Between interviews, promos, Twitter, and all the other avenues she used, she couldn't say for sure. She had been spending most of her time and energy on Ronda, but it was possible that a flame-gear jab had slipped through.

She was about to bring up the Mixed Match Challenge, ask Seth if he would take part; the bosses probably wouldn't want to tie up one of their biggest male stars in what was essentially a fun little tournament, but if Becky could build herself up through social media, then maybe she could gather support for Team Pants on Fire. Before she could figure out what to say, though, movement to the side caught her attention. Someone pushing a large trunk, definitely larger than the one she was on, was trundling around the corner and not paying attention. "Hey!" she called out. The crewman kept pushing; he probably had earbuds in. "Watch out," she said to Seth, meaning to move to the side to give him space to get out of the way.

That was what she meant to do. What happened was that Seth tried to press as close to the parked trunks as he could, and ended up between Becky's knees instead. As the crewman rumbled by, he finally noticed Seth and muttered an apology without breaking his stride. "Sorry about that," Seth murmured. 

"No worries." Becky scrambled for something else to say. Seth was still standing between her knees; his hand had landed on her thigh when he jumped out of the way and he hadn't moved it yet. 

So naturally that was the moment the McMahons decided to open their door, making Seth jump back so quickly he nearly tripped. Hunter was the only one who came out and he nodded at Becky. "You're in, Lynch. We're going to play up Lana's injury and then you'll go out and ask to take her spot. We're working out the final details, but we should know in about ten minutes. Sound good?"

She just nodded. It wasn't fair to Lana, but Becky's legs were still tingling from where Seth had been pressed against her and she was having trouble switching back into work mode. "Sure. I'll go get ready."

"Good." Hunter gave another nod, this time to Seth. "Rollins. Nothing's changed for your match."

"Cool. Thanks." After Hunter went back into the office, Seth met Becky's gaze and managed a quirked smile. "You got your birthday present early, Irish. Don't forget to point at the sign."

"Likewise." Becky eased off the trunk but kept a hand on it to steady herself. If you had asked her five minutes ago, she would have said it was the cogs of her dream in motion that had her so lost in her own thoughts. Now she couldn't be so sure.


	4. Valentine's Day, part 1

Valentine's Day. It was looming and Becky hated it. She'd never been fond of the holiday at the best of times, but after getting the news about her dad around Christmas, she found it harder to care about going out on dates—which was probably reflected in her recently single status. She couldn't even hang out with Charlotte, Bayley, or Sasha, because they would all be with their significant others. _Oh well_ , Becky thought as she left the locker room. _At least chocolate will be half-off soon._

When she heard someone call her name, Becky decided not to stop. She had just gone through the charade of debating whether to apologize to the McMahons, fielding advice from various superstars backstage, only have to have Vince shoehorn Charlotte in again. She'd suspected it would happen, but just then, she wasn't looking for sympathy or anyone else's opinion.

"Irish! Wait up!" 

The voice was louder and closer this time, more insistent, and there weren't many people who called her _Irish_. Becky turned and felt her heart skip a bit as Seth jogged to catch up with her. Ever since the Royal Rumble, she'd been thinking about their chat—and when Seth had been pressed against her. It made no sense: she had known him for years and probably hugged him more times than she could count. So why was she just now starting to notice things like how incredible his eyes were? The stupid insidious Valentine's Day marketing must have been getting to her. Squaring her shoulders, Becky tried to smile, but she knew it was lopsided. "Hey. What's up?"

"Hey." Was she imagining things, or was his smile a bit softer than it used to be? It was hard to tell, because his gaze hadn't budged from her face and it was distracting. "You know about my Deadboys Fitness thing, yeah? With my friend Josh?" When Becky nodded, Seth continued, gaze dropping for only a second before meeting hers again. "Think you'd be interested in doing some videos with us? I know you did those Celtic Warrior ones with Sheamus," he added quickly, "and Josh and I were thinking it would be nice to have more women featured in ours too. I'm going to ask Bayley and Sasha too. . . ."

Was that relief lowering her shoulders or disappointment? Becky wasn't sure. It shouldn't have been disappointment, she told herself; what was she expecting Seth to ask her? "Sure. Yeah, sounds cool. Um, yeah, just . . . text me or whatever and we'll make schedules work."

"Cool. Cool, thanks. Should be fun." Seth rocked back on his heels but otherwise made no move to leave. "Anyway, so what are you doing for Valentine's Day? Not . . . not the actual day; I know there's a show. Just. . . ." He made a vague motion with his hands before jamming them in his pockets.

"Val—" Becky stopped herself before she could echo the whole word. If he was asking what she thought he was asking, she had no idea how to reply; if she was wrong, she was going to feel like an utter fool. "Not much," she managed. "Normally whoever's single in the Four will hang out, but the others are all partnered up at the moment, so. . . ."

Seth nodded slowly, shifting slightly from foot to foot. "Yeah, it's my first solo V-Day in a while too." This time when their eyes locked again, his gaze was both soft and smoldering. "So . . . you wanna hang out? We could try to find a quiet coffee place or something."

"Yeah. Yeah, sure." Becky could feel her cheeks twitching as she tried to suppress her smile. "Yeah, I'd like that. Um, what days are you booked?"

Seth finally came closer, bumping shoulders with her as he gestured for them to walk and talk. The brief contact didn't leave her quite as flustered as it had at the Rumble, but she also noticed that he was walking close enough that their arms brushed more often than not.

Maybe Valentine's Day wouldn't be so horrible this year after all.

*

The date wasn't going as planned. Seth wasn't even sure if it was a date. He hadn't come right out and asked Becky on a date, so she wouldn't be wrong to assume it was just two friends having coffee. Wrestlers hung out after shows all the time, and it was a struggle to find some place private. He didn't mind signing things for fans or taking pictures with them, but he needed time to himself too.

And Becky's hair was like a damn beacon. If he wore a toque and his glasses, he could often walk around unrecognized, but her fiery hair drew attention no matter what. After they had bypassed a cafe to narrowly avoid a gaggle of fans, Seth finally tugged off his toque and handed it to her. "Your hair's too noticeable, Irish."

"I'm getting that feeling, yeah." Becky gathered her hair as best she could in a messy bun and pulled the toque down over it. "Better?"

When it came to Becky, there really was no 'better'. There were some of the female wrestlers Seth hardly recognized without their ring makeup, but Becky was almost always resolutely herself. It was part of what held her back for so long, and equally part of why she was shining so brightly now. "Good." Then he pointed down the block to a red and white sign. "Want to try there? Looks smaller."

"Sure." If she was cold, she wasn't showing it. "Not to pry or anything," Becky added, glancing at him quickly before looking back at the icy sidewalk in front of them, "but what happened with you and . . . Sarah?" Her nose crinkled a bit as if she wasn't sure of the name. "I thought you two had been together for a while."

Seth took so long to reply that Becky started to stammer out an apology— _sorry for asking, none of my business_ —so he quickly shook his head. "Nah, nah, it's okay. It's fine. It's amicable and everything. We actually split a little while ago, but kept it quiet because we didn't want it to become a big thing. It's just hard juggling a relationship with someone when you're in a different place every week, you know?" He tipped his head back and looked at the stars for a moment. "Not that I want to give any of this up. It's just. . . ."

"I know." Becky's slow nod almost looked like her head was bobbing in time with her steps. She edged closer to him to avoid a slick patch of ice and it took Seth a moment to notice she stayed closer too. "And it's hard because it's part of the deal. It's part of _us_ , and no matter how often we tell our partners that, they never really get it until they haven't seen us for a month and to them it feels like it's been forever, but for us it's normal."

They were in front of the small cafe then, and it looked like a family-owned place with hand-lettered signs in the window. From what Seth could see, there were no other customers, so he held the door open for Becky and followed her in. A girl in her early twenties stopped wiping down a table and headed back to the main counter. "Good evening. What would you like?"

And then Seth had an idea. "You're only open for another two hours, right?" When the girl nodded, he took out his wallet and put a few bills on the counter. "Would that cover having it to ourselves for the rest of the night?"

The girl's eyes went wide as she saw the numbers on the bills. "Yes. Definitely. But . . . that's too much. Honestly, unless there's a game on or a concert in town, we're usually dead for the last hour anyway." 

She tried to push at least two of the bills back, but Seth refused. "Please. We'd be grateful for the quiet and the privacy."

"Of course." The girl pocketed one of the bills and put the other two in the cash register before going up to the front, locking the door, flipping the OPEN sign to the CLOSED side, and pulling down the cover for the front window. "What can I get for you?" she asked as she made her way back around the counter.

Becky was already crouching in front of the pastry counter. Everything looked fresh and delicious, and it was unfortunate that so much of it might go to waste. "One of those," Becky said, pointing at a flaky pastry, "and one of those and . . . ooh! One of those chocolate disc thingies over there, please."

"Chocolate disc thingies." Seth shook his head. "Another one of those, and two coffees, please." The cafe obviously didn't have the offerings of a fancier place, but he'd happily have a regular coffee if it came with some peace and quiet. After setting another bill on the counter, he followed Becky to one of the booths in the back. "You can take the hat off now, you know."

Becky laughed and tugged it down even further, almost over her eyes. "Nope. It's mine now. Your hat, your title, your pastry: I'm taking everything."

Before Seth could reply, the girl bustled over with a tray, setting out a plate of pastries and the two coffees. Then she tried to give Seth back his change. "Keep it. Please. We're just happy to have the quiet."

The girl nodded and took a step back, looking at them both. "Are you two famous or something? Trying to avoid the crowds?"

Seth and Becky shared a look. If the girl didn't know who they were, they certainly weren't going to announce themselves. "Internet famous," Becky said. "In town for a show and just looking for a spot to unwind. Thanks for the privacy, by the way. We appreciate it." 

"Of course. I'll just be cleaning if you need anything." Then the girl went back to the front, wiping down tables before flipping up the chairs so she could mop the floor.

They chatted vaguely at first, glancing over at the girl every once in a while to see if she was trying to sneak a picture on her phone, but she seemed happy to give them their space. She passed by every now and then and after about half an hour, she left a metal carafe of coffee on their table so they could help themselves, but otherwise they barely knew she was there.

It felt like a strange mixture of a first date and an overdue reunion. Seth could feel the giddy first-date jitters, the buzz of excitement and discovery and hope, but he and Becky were also old friends, so they could bypass a lot of the awkward getting-to-know-you bullshit and actually talk. He told her how conflicted he felt about Dean not renewing his WWE contract and the guilt that Dean had hadn't told him right away because he didn't want to overshadow Seth's Royal Rumble moment; she confessed her worry that Vince was going to find a way to keep her out of the match at Wrestlemania and give the moment she had worked so hard for to Ronda and Charlotte.

They could have kept on talking long after both the pastry plate and the coffee carafe were empty, but the girl was glancing over at them more and more often, so Seth finally looked at his phone. Ten minutes until closing. "We should get going," he said, standing up slowly. They'd been so involved in their conversation that they'd barely budged, and now his knees were aching. Catching the girl's attention, he smiled. "Thanks again. We really appreciated the privacy."

"Of course." Then she gestured at the cash register. "But like I said, we probably wouldn't have had much traffic anyway. If you want your money back. . . ."

"No, no. Keep it. Have a good night." Then Seth held a hand out to Becky.

"I'm getting up—" she began.

Seth laughed. "I know that. I want my hat back." It was late enough now that they should be able to make it back to the hotel without being spotted. "Your hair's longer than mine."

Sticking out her tongue, Becky tugged the toque down around her ears. "I told you: it's mine now."

The playful bickering continued as they left the cafe and started making their way back to the hotel. It wasn't far, but the night had definitely cooled off. Seth would be able to make it back to the hotel without getting frostbite, but Becky was just too fun to tease. "Hat, Irish. Now."

Becky grinned and skipped ahead a few steps. "Not happening. You want it, you'll have to fight me for it."

"What is your obsession with fighting me?" Seth faked her out, looking left but moving right, and they chased each other like that for almost a full block. When Becky ducked under his arm and then jumped up on a bus bench to get away, she slipped on some snow and started to fall. Seth caught her easily, but at an awkward angle, making it look like they were trying to do a dip in a dance. Their faces were only a few inches apart, but Becky didn't seem to be in a hurry to put her feet down. "Careful, Irish. Don't want you getting my hat bloody." He meant it to sound teasing, but his voice had almost dropped to a whisper by the end.

Afterwards, both would say they didn't know who started the kiss, and it didn't really matter. They both moved into it, so seamlessly it was like they had kissed a hundred times before. Seth straightened up but kept his arms tight around her; Becky put her feet down only to rise up on her toes, and when her hands gripped his hair, Seth didn't mind not having his hat at all.


	5. Valentine's Day, part 2

That first kiss led to a second and third, four and more, making the quick walk back to the hotel stretch out into a spinning blur of kisses and glances and blushes. Their fingers would hook together—never their whole hands, Seth noticed—but as soon as they were within sight of the hotel, they both sobered up. It was easy to get lost in the whirl of sensation when they were on their own, but just ahead were their friends and fellow wrestlers, not to mention some of their bosses. Even though the traffic light was in their favour, they stayed well back from the corner, gazing up at the tall building. 

"What are we doing about . . . this?" Becky asked, her fingers tightening around his for just a moment before slipping away. The gaze that had swallowed him whole was now riveted to the hotel looming in front of them.

"What do you want to do?" They were still across the street. Security cameras would only pick them up as people, nothing more. When Seth reached over and cradled Becky's jaw in his hand, turning her back to him, he could tell by the gleam in her eyes that she didn't really want to go back either. "Maybe we should talk about things tomorrow," Seth suggested, breathing still uneven, "when we're a little less. . . ." It almost felt like being drunk, but without the threat of a looming hangover.

Becky nodded. "Sounds good." Then she went up to the traffic light and pressed the button for the pedestrian crossing. "We should probably. . . ." She motioned vaguely over to the hotel. 

"Yeah." It was hard not to reach out and touch her as they crossed the street, to not hold her hand or slip his arm around her waist. Every time their arms brushed against each other, they'd glance at each other and Becky would usually let out a little chuckle. Under the street lights, Seth could see her cheeks going faintly pink. "Hey. Even if this . . . you know, doesn't change anything, I really enjoyed tonight. I haven't felt like I could just be myself with anyone for a long time."

"Yeah, same." Becky's knuckles skimmed his as she let out a long breath. "I—" She stopped as someone walked out of the hotel and started towards them. Cesaro.

Seth swore under his breath. He had asked Cesaro to take part in some of the Deadboys Fitness videos too and they were supposed to talk about it this week. "Hey, man. You didn't wait up for me, did you? We could've talked tomorrow. No rush."

If Cesaro got the hint, he ignored it. If anything, he looked confused. "It's not that late." Taking a second look, he finally seemed to recognize Becky. "Hey, Becks."

"Hey." Becky quickly schooled her expression into a slightly tired smile, and Seth immediately missed the warmth he had seen in her eyes all night. "Sorry for keeping him out so late," she quipped. "I'll let you lads get on with things and I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Sure." Seth wished there was something he could say, some kind of reference to the night that only Becky would get, but she quickly waved and headed inside. He tried to focus on what Cesaro was saying, but he was already thinking about tomorrow.

*

Becky's room was on the tenth floor, so it took a while to reach by stairs, but she welcomed the distraction. The exertion helped clear her head a bit, but she still couldn't get Seth out of her mind. They had known each other for years. Where had all these feelings come from? The breathless feeling making her chest tingle wasn't just from her impromptu workout.

Once she got back to her suite, she took off her jacket and grabbed her phone. It was Charlotte's first Valentine's Day with Andrade, so she should call to see how preparations were going. Charlotte liked to celebrate on a grand scale and had been wondering if she was going overboard. Without thinking, Becky automatically made it a video call and she flopped down on the bed as she waited for Charlotte to answer. "Hey, Char. All done with your Valentine's planning?"

"Becks!" Charlotte's face was freshly scrubbed for the night, her hair up in a bun, and the familiar sight made Becky smile. In the ring, Charlotte was an absolute marvel, but Becky doubted many people knew just how sweet she truly was. "What's up? You look happy." Then Charlotte narrowed her eyes. "What's with the hat?"

"Huh? Oh." Becky reached up, but stopped just short of pulling the toque off. "Went out for coffee with some of the singles." Charlotte was her best friend, but Becky didn't quite feel like sharing her new, sprawling feelings just yet. "Fans kept recognizing my hair, so Seth loaned me his hat. I'll give it back to him tomorrow. So what are you and Andrade doing for Valentine's Day?" After a moment, she laughed and added, "Aside from the obvious."

Charlotte laughed too, the rich sound filling Becky's suite. "I got tickets to one of his favourite plays, so we're going to see that. Dinner, of course. And drinks. And then I was thinking. . . ."

Becky settled in, listening to Charlotte gush about Andrade and their planned Valentine's. It was nice to see her friends so happy, and she was thinking about calling Bayley and Sasha too when she heard a knock on her door. "Hang on. Someone's at my door."

"Go. I'll call you tomorrow," Charlotte promised. "I want to order something online quick before Andrade gets back anyway. Love ya, Becks!"

"Love you too!" Becky disconnected and left her phone on the bed as she went over to the door, looking through the peephole.

Seth.

Any sense of calm or objectivity she'd gained from taking the stairs or talking to Charlotte evaporated instantly. She steadied her hands as best she could before opening the door. "Hey. I thought we were going to talk tomorrow. . . ."

Seth's dark eyes were shining and Becky felt the shivery feeling creep through her chest again. "I forgot about my hat," he said, voice low. Before she could remind him that he was supposed to fight her for it, he reached over and slowly pulled it off her head, sending her curls tumbling back down. "And I forgot to give you something."

"What?"

With his free hand, Seth pulled her into a kiss, making Becky stumble. He eased her back into her room, but just enough that he could almost close the door behind himself. "I don't need to think about it," he whispered against her mouth as he stepped back, letting Becky settle back onto her feet. "But I can wait. Breakfast at eight?"

Becky was still catching her breath as Seth slipped out the door. "Yeah. I—Yeah."

The smile that curled Seth's lips should have been infuriating, but Becky couldn't be mad at his mouth just then, not when it could scramble her thoughts so easily. "Sweet dreams," he said, smirk still in place as he turned and headed back to his room.

"Sweet dreams," Becky echoed as she shut the door and flipped all the locks. Was there a way to lock herself inside so she didn't follow him? She settled for going to the bed and flopping back on it. Sweet dreams? She would be lucky if she got any sleep at all.


	6. Hall of Fame 2019

"I'm starting to feel like your beard, Rollins."

Seth misheard Cesaro at first and grabbed a napkin to wipe his face. "What's in my beard?"

Cesaro shook his head and laughed. "What, you only understand Irish accents now?" He glanced across the coffee shop to where Becky was heading for the washroom. Leaning across the table, he lowered his voice and added, "Beard. Third wheel. However you want to say it. You don't always have to have someone else around if you want to spend time with her, you know."

"Oh." Seth caught just a glimpse of Becky's hair as she went into the washroom. "Nah, man. That's not it and you know it. You've been great in the workout videos—"

"And so has Becky," Cesaro chimed in, raising his cup to his lips.

"And I know you like coffee, so of course I wanted you to try my shop. . . ." Seth's coffee shop, attached to his wrestling school, hadn't been open for very long, but it was doing well and he was proud of it.

"And same with Becky." Cesaro finally sat back, but he kept his voice low. The wrestlers had a quiet table in the back, but some local fans had still spotted them earlier. "I get what you're doing, but you're only going to start a whole different set of rumours, my friend. People will think you and I are dating and that Becky's the cover, or—"

"I'm the cover? Of what?" Becky slid back into her seat, seemingly none the wiser about what Cesaro had said just before. "I know there were talks about 2k20—is that what they're calling it?—but I didn't think anything had been decided yet. Isn't Hogan the frontrunner?"

"We were saying you and Charlotte and Ronda should be on the Wrestlemania program cover," Cesaro said, shooting Seth a look before standing up. "I'm going to get a coffee for the road. Be right back."

Beneath the table, out of sight, Becky bumped her knee against Seth's. "You weren't talking about video game covers."

There was no sharpness to her tone and Seth knew if he asked her to drop it, she would, but it was something they'd have to discuss sooner or later. "Cesaro was saying people are going to start rumours if the three of us are always seen together." He tilted his cup back and forth, watching the last drops of his drink circle the bottom.

"He's not wrong." Becky kept her knee against his. "But there's already pictures out there. At cafes. At the UFC event. A concert. The Deadboys videos. Some people will connect the dots, sure. . . ." She trailed off, gaze flitting around the cafe. No one had their phone out and blatantly pointed in their direction, but they had both seen enough sneak-shots of themselves online to know that it happened.

Seth reached under the table and squeezed her leg. "I didn't mean anything bad by it. I know it's going to come out eventually. I just know you value your privacy, like I do." He glanced up at the counter and saw Cesaro chatting with two of the baristas, clearly lingering to give Seth time to talk with Becky. They'd been dating for about a month, but so far they had only told their close friends. He was sure most of the locker room knew, but no one in the company would announce their relationship without permission. When and how to reveal things was another thing they would have to talk about. "What do you want to do about it?"

Becky glanced over at Cesaro, who was slowly making his way back to their table. "We could go back to the hotel," she said. "The show's not for a few hours."

He didn't catch the note in her voice, but he certainly knew the look that giving him. "We could," he agreed, already starting to stand. 

Cesaro clearly read something either from Becky's expression or Seth's body language, because he grabbed his jacket. "Heading back to the hotel? Let me drop you off. It's on the way to a store I want to visit."

"That video game we were talking about?" Seth asked with a laugh.

"Yeah," Cesaro agreed. "Need something to fill the time, right?"

Retreating to the hotel wouldn't fix their concerns. They knew that. But it would give them some privacy, which was getting harder and harder to find. As much as they wanted to keep themselves to themselves, it didn't look like it was going to be possible for much longer.

*

Becky hadn't really noticed that her past few outfits for the Hall of Fame ceremony had all been somewhat revealing. The white dress with the open back wasn't that daring, but then there was the white pantsuit with the criss-cross top last year and the plunging black number from 2016 which, now that she thought about it, was similar to what she was wearing this year. Some fashion critic was bound to pan her for it, but she didn't care. There were far bigger things to worry about, like main-eventing Wrestlemania.

And sitting next to Seth for the Hall of Fame ceremony when their relationship still wasn't officially public.

It was an open secret within WWE and there were still a bunch of unsanctioned pictures of them online, but they were clinging to the last bits of normalcy they would get. Part of Becky worried that her recent run would suddenly be attributed to Seth's success: after all, it wouldn't be the first time the bosses had gifted their big star's significant other with tons of exposure and opportunities. That wasn't why she wasn't in the position she was in—she knew that and Seth always reassured her of it too—but she was still bracing herself for the onslaught of negativity that would be coming their way as soon as their relationship was announced publically.

When she heard a knock on her hotel door, Becky was grateful. Charlotte or even Sasha might have seen it as an interruption, but she welcomed the distraction. Looking out through the peephole and seeing Seth there, dressed in all black, made her heart flutter a bit. _Well, at least we can't help but match,_ Becky thought as she opened the door, keeping the cape part of her outfit out of the way. The last thing she needed was for the cape to get caught in something and tear off the top of her outfit. "Hey." A relieved smile spread across her face and her shoulders automatically relaxed. Somehow it was just easier to calm down if Seth was there.

"Hey." Of course, if he kept looking at her the way he was, his dark eyes giving her a long once-over before settling on her plunging neckline, she was going to become the opposite of calm—but in a much more enjoyable way. "You look incredible," he murmured, leaning in for a kiss. "Like always."

"Thank you. You're gorgeous. Like always." Becky let her fingers stroke the edge of his tie before giving it a playful tug. "I forgot how similar this looks to what I wore in 2016." She stepped back to do a turn for him. "Should I find a necklace to wear with it? I don't think I brought a long one, but Charlotte probably has one. . . ."

Becky's breath caught as Seth trailed a finger along her clavicle and then down along her sternum, toying with the waistline of her pants before making his way back up. "You don't need anything. It's perfect," he whispered against her jaw.

All her nervousness was being replaced with lust and Becky came to her senses just enough to stop Seth from sliding his hand further in, along her ribs and up to her breast. "Careful. I'm taped in, remember?"

"Right, right. You'll need help getting that off later, I imagine." Seth pressed a kiss against her collarbone before resting his hand over her heart.

Becky's sigh ended in a rough chuckle. "I thought sex the night before the big game was supposed to be bad for athletes?"

Seth wrapped his other arm around her waist and pulled her close, trailing light kisses along her neck. With so much bare skin there, any hickeys would stand out like beacons. "Not true." She felt him smile just before he planted another kiss, that one right behind her ear. "It's good for your nerves and self-esteem. Besides," he added, pulling back slowly, "you're on last tomorrow, so you'll have plenty of time to recover."

"But your match is going to be near the start," she countered, just barely grabbing her clutch purse before Seth opened the door. She hadn't had a chance to peek in the mirror, so she had to hope Seth hadn't put anything out of place.

Before Seth could reply, Sonya Deville was waving to them from down the hallway, beckoning for them to come meet her girlfriend. Becky would have to wait for his answer, but she knew it would be worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first try at RPF, so I hope it's okay! This is all I have for now, but I'm hoping to write more during Camp NaNoWriMo in July!


	7. Wrestlemania 35

First match, again. But just like at last year's Summerslam, Seth didn't mind. Last summer, he had willingly stayed behind to watch Becky's historic turn against Charlotte. Just thinking about it made him chuckle. If only he knew then what he did now. Maybe he did, on some level. He and Becky had been close friends for years, after all. How many times had she gone to him for advice or out of frustration for how her career was going?

And now here they were, together, bookending the night. Brock Lesnar was—kayfabe or not, Seth didn't know and didn't particularly care—upset that the Universal Title match wasn't the main event, and thus he wanted to go first. Fine by him. That just meant Seth had the rest of the night to enjoy the other matches and maybe catch a bit of sleep so he would be sure to be awake for Becky in the main event.

As if the thought had summoned her, there was a quick knock on his locker room door and then it opened just a crack, Becky's hand sticking out to wave. "Can I come in?" she asked.

Seth laughed as he finished lacing up his boots. "Not like there's nothing you haven't seen before," he replied, watching her as she came in. Since her match was hours away yet, she was still dressed casually, face free of make-up to make it easier for the prep squad to do their work. "Hey." He stood and pulled her close, resting his forehead against hers. "Not long now."

"You'll be amazing." She cupped his face in both hands and gave him a slow kiss. If there was anyone else who understood his drive to succeed, it was her. When she pulled back, she pointed at the bench. "Need a hand with your bracelets?"

"Please." Seth sat back down and simply enjoyed watching Becky as she unwound the cuffs and got them ready. It felt strange to have so many of the new-relationship infatuations when he had already known her for years, but now the context was completely different. As he held out his left wrist for its bracelet, he gently squeezed her hand. "Hey. We never really finished our conversation about being backstage tonight." There were always cameras on hand, photographers and videographers alike, but Wrestlemania was WWE's biggest event of the year; you could barely move backstage without running into a camera and the pre-show wasn't even done yet. The bosses liked to chronicle all the big moments, especially when newly crowned champions arrived backstage with their titles. If it had been a lesser event, there probably wouldn't have been much fuss about Becky congratulating him or vice versa, but Wrestlemania pictures were bound to get out. Since they weren't public about their relationship yet, they needed to decide how they were going to proceed.

"I know. I just barely got some time away from the WWE24 camera guys to come visit you." Becky tried to hold back her sigh of frustration as she finished tying Seth's left bracelet, patted his wrist for good luck, and motioned for his right. 

"We don't have to do anything here, Becks." Now that his left hand was free, Seth used it to stroke her leg while she worked away on the other bracelet. "I know you're happy for me, and I hope you know I'm over the moon for you. We can celebrate later, away from the cameras."

"We could," Becky echoed slowly, taking her time with his right wrist. When she finished, she let her fingers linger over the laces before bending to kiss his hand. "But we're not going to be able to keep it a secret forever. We both know that. Maybe this is the time. I don't know." She sat beside him and rested her head on his shoulder. "What do you think?"

"I think," Seth smiled, kissing her head, "that when you're done, we're gonna get out of here and have the best celebration of the night, away from all the damn cameras." He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to his side. "But if you're sick of the cameras, I totally get it. I'll follow your lead."

"Thank you." Becky started to stand and give him a quick kiss, but he drew her down onto his lap. She relaxed against him gratefully, gracefully, trusting that he wouldn't let her fall. It took her three tries to stop the kiss and pull back, and her eyes were dizzyingly dark as she gazed at him. "Careful. You don't have time to finish what you're trying to start."

Seth pressed one last kiss to her neck before settling back. "Consider this the pre-show."

Laughing, Becky eased off his lap and stood, putting some much-needed distance between them. "Some of the best matches are in the pre-show."

"Yeah, but my girl's going to be in the main event." Grinning, Seth stood and stole one more kiss before opening the door for her. "If you're so eager to get back to the cameras, then go ahead. I'll see you later." He watched her leave, so distracted she nearly ran into Renee Young, who laughed and said something that must have been dirty enough to make Becky giggle.

When Seth was called up for his match, he wet down his hair one last time and made his way to the gorilla position, letting the unique energy of Wrestlemania seep into his bones. Part of him wished Becky was right there, just by the stage entrance. Even just touching her hand could steady him. _Main event_ , he told himself as his music hit. He always tried to treat every match he had as if it were the main event, even back when he was a nobody jobbing to someone else. He wasn't about to lose that fire, that drive, just because he was the first match on the main card.

Brock Lesnar wasn't his ideal opponent. Seth preferred the full-timers, the guys who ate, slept, and bled the business; those matches made him feel like he was co-authoring a story that would be retold down the ages. But he still brought his main-event mentality and when his music hit for the second time, this time signaling his victory and new championship, it still felt like the night was his.

The roar of the audience bled into the cheers backstage, from passing wrestlers and crew members alike, but he didn't see any of them or the cameras sprouting around him like weeds.

Because Becky was there. Despite all the cameras, all the flashes going off, she was there.

When she wrapped her arms around his neck, going up on tiptoe, she whispered "Good job" by his ear. For some reason, his arms felt too big around her waist, but even as she lowered herself to her feet, he couldn't bring himself to let her go. He was so used to being able to touch her, even if it was just in the smallest ways, that restraining himself was getting more difficult with each show.

It only took a second for him to realize it, but it felt like an eternity: she wasn't stepping back from him. The hug could have been warm congratulations from a friend, but she was still there in his arms, looking up at him, holding on to his shoulders. He couldn't think of a way to ask without being obvious, so he tried to give her a look, a slight twitch of his eyebrow.

She moved into the kiss almost as quickly as he did.

The kiss in his locker room was better, of course, since it was theirs alone, but if they had to share a kiss with the world, they weren't going to give away everything. As Becky moved back, arms sliding off his neck, she patted his chest with both hands and smiled. The hug, the kiss, the smile: all of it caught on camera, a part of the fabled showcase of the immortals. Seth almost started to follow her, desperate to kiss her again and thank her, but he was quickly shepherded to interviewers and yet more cameras.

It felt like hours had passed before Seth was finally able to untangle himself from the cameras and the well-wishes of the other wrestlers, but when he caught up with Becky again, she still wasn't in her ring gear; there were still hours before her match. "You came," he said softly.

Becky raised an eyebrow. "Your pre-game game isn't _that_ good, Rollins."

Seth barely took a moment to set his newly won title on a stack of boxes before yanking Becky to him and pressing her against the wall, kissing her so hard she made a mewling sound that made his fingers twitch. He only broke the kiss when he needed to breathe; Becky's eyes fluttered shut as she rested her head back against the wall, breath rasping past her parted lips. "Thank you." It came out more guttural than he had wanted, but after the deep gasp it made Becky take, he didn't regret it at all. He pressed her close to the wall again, their bodies so perfectly aligned that the only thing that stood between them and a far more intimate main event was their pants. And since neither had zippers. . . . Seth forced his hands flat against the wall to keep himself from pushing anything out of his way. "Thank you," he repeated. His voice wasn't quite as rough, but it seemed to have the same effect on Becky: when she opened her eyes at last, her pupils eclipsed almost all the colour in her eyes.

"My pleasure," she managed, her breathing still shaky. She ran her hands down his biceps. "You know, I probably don't have to get dressed for an hour or so. . . ."

Shaking his head, Seth pulled her into his dressing room, grabbing his title almost as an afterthought. Now that all his obligatory appearances were done, he could probably go into hiding for a while. Becky, though, still had to run that particular gauntlet. "If I have to wait for the main event," he teased, locking the door behind him, "then so do you."

"I guess that means no 'two out of three falls' match either." Becky let him pick her up and press her against the wall again. "Or a tables match?"

"Everyone would know how we broke it," Seth replied. "I was thinking more like . . . a cage match." While Becky tried to puzzle through the euphemism, he set her down on the bench and tugged on her waistband, pulling it and her underwear down over her hips.

Becky raised herself enough that Seth could continue his work, watching him with lust-dark eyes. "And what's that?"

Seth smiled as he ducked under her legs, working her pants down far enough that he could spread her thighs. "Cage," he said simply, kissing his way up her bared thigh.

By the time he got where he wanted, Becky's hands were already deep in his hair. "I thought," she panted, squirming he started with one slow lick, "you were going to suggest a submission match."

"That's for later," he promised. He didn't have as much time as he would have liked, but from the way Becky was moaning, her gaze fixed on his right until she came, he thought the match went over well enough. "Something to get you through your match," he added with a grin, leaving her sitting on the bench to catch her breath while he ducked and stood, going over to his bag.

When he tossed Becky a towel, she almost fumbled it to the floor. "Don't," she rasped when she saw him reach for the laces on his boots. "Stay dressed until I'm gone, or else I'm getting us both in trouble."

"Sounds like my kind of trouble," Seth grinned. But he obliged. After all, the night was young, and he still had the main event to look forward to.

*

Logically, Becky knew she shouldn't have been hanging around Seth's locker room. She knew exactly what would happen—well, perhaps not the specifics, but she had known one of them would end up out of their own head. Now she needed to get her head back on her shoulders and focus on her match. Event fatigue was already setting with the audience and she couldn't blame them; even if you didn't include the pre-show, it was a long night. Depending on how things went, Becky might technically win on Monday, not Sunday.

When there was a knock on her locker room door, she froze for a moment. As much as she would love for it to be Seth, there was no way she would be able to even hug him without scrambling her thoughts all over again. "Becks?" It took her a moment to recognize Charlotte's voice. "You busy?"

"Nah, I'm good. Come in." Becky blew a piece of hair out of her face. She loved the punkish style, but it was going to be an utter disaster by the time the night was out.

Charlotte was all dressed, save her robe. The plan was for her to have an elaborate helicopter entrance, so she would need to start her preparations soon. "Hey, Becks." She enveloped her shorter friend in a hug.

"Hey, Char. Hey, jugs." It was a running joke between them, and the only reason Becky had felt comfortable using Charlotte's breast implants as ammunition during their feud. "Ready for your ride?"

Charlotte gave her a very pointed look. "It looks like you already had the best ride of the night," she laughed. "You better get that dopey look off your face or you're going to give Ronda a run for her money in the Silliest Expression category."

"Argh." Becky started to raise her hands to her face, but then remembered all the hard work the ladies in make-up had done to complement her gear. "I knew I shouldn't have gone to congratulate him privately, but I'm so proud of him. . . ."

"I know." Charlotte looped an arm around her friend's shoulders. "Have some cold water and think really unsexy thoughts. Imagine having to wear those stupid shorts of Ronda's that keep riding up."

Becky nearly choked on her laughter. "Not a visual I needed, Char."

"No, but it worked, didn't it?" Then Charlotte sobered, turning Becky to face her and holding both her hands. "Woman, I am so happy for you. You deserve all of this: the attention, the main event, the double title. Even the good sex."

"Oh, well, I'll tell Seth we have your blessing then, should I?" Becky pulled Charlotte into another hug. "Thanks, Char. It means a lot."

"I know. The only person other than me that I would want to have this moment is you," Charlotte said, "and I can't wait to see it." She was already in full make-up too, and when tears came to her eyes, she dabbed at them gingerly. "Okay, okay. No tears! The stupid boys don't have to deal with this," she said with a laugh, grabbing a tissue from Becky's kit and patting gently at her cheeks. "I'll go do my thing and I'll see you out there. Love you, Becks."

"Love you too." The love and respect from Charlotte helped steady Becky through the rest of her preparations. The cold water helped too, though wiggling out of her ring gear enough to go to the bathroom was an art in itself.

Becky's ring entrance wasn't as flashy as Charlotte's or Ronda's, but she didn't mind. That wasn't what being The Man was about. She had fought and bled—literally, thanks to Nia Jax—to get her spot at Wrestlemania, and it was enough to hear her music and see her name emblazoned on the screens. The match wasn't without its hitches, and she was sure Ronda was going to be full of gripes whenever she decided to crawl back to WWE, but at the end of the three count, it was Becky's hand that was raised, her shoulders draped in titles.

Her family was in the audience. The fans were happy. But all Becky wanted to do was get to the back and finish her interviews. All the nervous energy that had been building up over the course of the night had been boiled away by excitement and exertion. When she stumbled into the back, she was in such a daze that she hadn't even thought about cameras and questions. She was halfway through a near-delirious laugh of incredulous joy when she spotted Seth.

How the tables had turned. Now he was the one dressed casually, hair back in a bun, wiping tears away. Setting her titles to the side, she curled herself around him in a hug, resting her head on his chest. The cameras probably wanted another kiss, but right then she just needed his arms and the steady beat of his heart. Even the subtle press of his cheek in her hair was something she found herself missing if she went too long without it. Facing away from her, Seth whispered, "You were amazing."

Becky would have happily stayed there for hours, but she knew the routine: pictures, interviews, reviews from the bosses. "I'll be done as soon as I can," she whispered as she pulled away.

It was most definitely Monday by the time she was done and she almost felt like just wearing her ring gear back to the hotel, but it was sticky with sweat and tears. Even though their relationship wasn't yet public, she and Seth had opted to share a room, and she leaned against him for the whole elevator ride up to their floor. Now that they had three titles in tow, they were definitely returning with more bags than they had left with. "Champ champ champ," she murmured.

"Your hair looks ridiculous," Seth laughed, tugging on a wayward strand. "I love it." 

"If you love it so much," she replied, "you can help me undo it."

"Gladly."

They left their bags just inside the door, out of the way, and Seth set up their titles on the dresser like a display. "Now I just need the Women's Tag Belts," Becky mused.

"You can beat Billie and Peyton no problem. Come here." Seth sat her down on the foot of the bed and he settled behind her, working the last of the elastics and other holders out of her hair. Most of the make-up and hair crew had gone home after prepping Ronda, Becky, and Charlotte for their match, so Becky had been left to her own devices. A few minutes and a few winces later, everything was out of her hair and Seth combed his fingers through it. "Better?"

"Much." Becky leaned back against him and shut her eyes. It had been one of the most incredible nights of her life. Main event at Wrestlemania, the first time ever for a women's match. Winning both championships. And in a relationship with someone who understood it all: every drive, every setback, every dream. It had taken her so long to get here, but it finally felt like she was where she was supposed to be. "So, about that main event. . . ."

Seth chuckled against her shoulder, making her squirm. "I think maybe that match should be rescheduled. I want my opponent in peak condition, you know. No excuses." Then he pressed his face to her neck and let out a long breath. "Thank you for coming to congratulate me. I know we haven't really discussed what to do with our relationship as far as the company's concerned. . . . "

"Hunter won't let them publish any pictures until we say we're ready," Becky replied, turning to the side so she could cuddle against him better. "But we'll have to decide soon."

"Or we could just . . . let it happen when it happens." He gestured at their row of championships, glittering in the hotel room light. "The conspiracy freaks will have plenty to say."

Becky let out a small laugh. "Right. Like we're the New Authority or something."

"More like a mixed-tag match. You and me against Hunter and Steph." Seth held Becky close and drew them both back against the bed.

"Book it." Becky rested a hand on Seth's stomach and let herself concentrate on his breathing for a moment. It was so strangely pleasant to be able to talk about wrestling with her lover; some of the other men she had dated seemed to tune out after a while, and she could never figure out if it was simple disinterest or the fact that they didn't like that she was involved in a combat sport. _Maybe I should have dated a wrestler earlier_.

"You should probably get some sleep." Seth sounded half-asleep himself. "When is your family leaving tomorrow?"

"Around noon." Becky inched her hand beneath Seth's waistband, smiling as his breath caught. "I remembered you saying something about a submission match later. . . ." She sat up and unfastened his pants with one hand, using the other to cup his balls. "But if you insist on waiting until your opponent's ready. . . ."

"I changed my mind." Seth let out a low growl when Becky leaned over and started kissing her way up his chest.

Becky laughed against his skin when he gripped her hair. "Careful. My boyfriend spent a lot of time finger-combing that. . . ."

"Then he's an idiot," Seth replied, "because I can think of much better things to be doing with my fingers." His moans were getting deeper and deeper, and the muscles along his abdomen were starting to twitch in anticipation.

"Hm? Like what?" Becky was just about to turn her trail of kisses around his navel, but Seth grabbed her free hand and pulled her up against him, rolling her onto her back. "I thought you wanted to wait until your opponent was ready," she teased, reaching back down for him again.

But Seth caught her wrist easily and pinned her down, kissing her until they were both breathless. "Oh, I'll make sure she's ready." Using his weight to keep Becky down, he let one wrist go and slid that hand into her pants and between her legs before she could even think to move her now-free hand.

"Fuck." Becky squirmed beneath him, a sharp jolt of pleasure lifting her hips. Even during their first time together, when a simple kiss had turned into Seth whispering things in her ear that had her scrambling for her room key, he somehow knew all the perfect places to touch her. With their free hands, they struggled out of their clothes, but Becky came before Seth could even get her panties off her hips. "You made the mess," she laughed giddily, already feeling the second wave of pleasure starting. "You get the laundry."

"Deal." When Becky's stroke faltered, he plucked her hand away and yanked her pants down to her ankles before thrusting into her. They were making a mess of their clothes and the bed, and Seth's hair was almost as wild as Becky's was, but all the teasing from the night before had to be answered. "Next time," he murmured against her breast, "I am so fucking you in my locker room."

"Submission match?" Becky asked, gripping his shoulders, careful not to scratch. RAW couldn't have their newly crowned champion looking like he had just broken up a cat fight, after all.

"That's for your locker room." Seth kept his body low, each thrust pressing his chest to hers. "I want No Holds Barred."

"Dibs . . . on Winner Take All, then." Becky wished she had the strength to flip him over and top him, ride him until he was begging, but she was practically shaking. He could make her lose control so easily, so quickly, it was almost frightening, but it was exhilarating at the same time.

Seth shuddered as he came, almost howling. Only then did he prop himself up on his elbows, gazing down on her with those unfathomable eyes. "Cage matches are still mine," he smiled, sliding down her body until he was kneeling between her legs again. "Rematch?"

"I guess you've earned it. . . ."


	8. Learning Irish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Irish terms come from this website: https://www.lmfm.ie/showbiz/this-irish-phrasebook-teaches-us-how-to-talk-dirty/
> 
> Apologies for anything I got wrong!

Before she was The Man, Becky never needed to be at the arenas early; sometimes she was lucky if Creative had anything for her at all. She still showed up earlier than most, though, hoping to show her initiative, her dedication. Now she showed up early out of necessity. It felt like there was always a promo to shoot, an interview to do, a new t-shirt design to consult on. She loved it all, she really did, but it also gave her a whole new appreciation for what the likes of John Cena must have gone through on a daily basis.

During one of her lulls, Becky went to settle in with the backstage crowd to watch the show. She was about to head for a mostly empty row of seats when a well-dressed blonde woman waved at her. "Rebecca! Come see Monroe!"

Maryse was one of the few people who insisted on calling her Rebecca; maybe she thought _Becky_ didn't sound posh enough with a French accent. Even Becky had to admit that Maryse made her full name sound good, though. Excusing herself as she worked her way down the row, Becky sat down beside the mother and daughter. "Hey, Maryse. I didn't know you were going to be here today." Then she smiled at the small child on Maryse's lap. "Hi, Monroe!"

Monroe babbled happily at her, reaching for some of her bracelets. "Oh, I'm not scheduled for anything. I just wanted to talk to some of the girls. Nattie and I are supposed to be doing something to promote women's wrestling in Canada, so we're going to talk about that. Besides, this one," she added, tickling Monroe's belly, "loves being backstage. Don't you, Monroe?"

"She's so sweet." Becky laughed when Monroe started to reach for her. "She's got your stubbornness, that's for sure."

Maryse laughed too. "It's so true! Do you want to hold her?"

"Sure." Becky pulled Monroe into her lap and started talking to her while Maryse quickly checked her text messages. "So how's this one coming along?" she asked, pointing to Maryse's growing belly. Becky hadn't heard an official due date from Miz, but given the timeline, she figured Maryse would be due in September.

"Good so far. Really good." Maryse gave her belly a pat and sighed. She was so fashion conscious that many people assumed she hated gaining pregnancy weight, but she appeared to simply take it as a challenge to find more amazing outfits, just in a larger size. "Oh, you two are so cute together!" She lifted her phone. "May I?"

"Of course." Becky readied herself for the flash and made a silly face to make Monroe smile. "She's going to have quite the photo album when she grows up."

Maryse nodded. "And lots of uncles and aunties to look out for her." Then her eyes narrowed in a nefarious way Becky remembered all too well from watching Maryse's original run as a Diva: she was scheming. "Have you thought about when you want to start having kids?"

Becky's first thought was to glance around for Seth, which made her heart lurch a bit. They had only been dating for a couple months, so any thoughts about kids were highly premature. "Oh, um. Not really, no. My career's going so well at the moment. I'd hate to step away now. . . ."

"I think you could get away with it if that's what you wanted. You've proven yourself now. They won't want to lose you to another company." Maryse was starting to say something more, but then she raised a hand. "Whoever has the clicker, turn up the volume! Seth is on."

Becky felt a slight blush sneak up her cheeks and she busied herself with tickling Monroe's feet, making the little girl squirm with delight. "You didn't have to," she insisted in a low voice. Was it just her, or had No Way Jose turned it up unbearably loud? It must have been her, because no one else was wincing. "I was just stopping to watch between promos. . . ." She and Seth often rewatched RAW together later the same night, adding in their own commentary.

_Now, I gotta admit—our girl, Becky Lynch, she's come up with a real interesting concept with this double championship._ Samoa Joe was entering the ring as he said it so he might have missed Seth's reaction, but Maryse certainly didn't. She laughed so loud she nearly startled Monroe. "Oh, but did you see the look on Seth's face when he said that?" Maryse crowed, clapping her hand against her knee.

Part of Becky had instinctively homed in when she heard her name; the other part, the one that was still protective of her new relationship, tried to tune it out. She didn't want to be a weapon used against Seth every time he was launched into a new feud; she didn't want to be his kryptonite. "He didn't . . . I mean, it wasn't even really my concept, you know? It was Vince who had Asuka drop the SmackDown title to Charlotte at the last minute there and then he added in the double champ stipulation. I can't take credit for that."

Maryse, though, was still amused as hell. "His face, though! That head tilt?" At least her laugh held a hint of appreciation for a heel barb delivered well; she didn't seem to be mocking Seth for his reactions. "And the way he flinched?"

"He did not _flinch_." Becky looked down at Monroe and kissed her head. Maryse had her downy hair pulled up in one of the fountain-like ponytails Becky had always privately thought looked ridiculous. "Is your mummy always this silly? No wonder you're such a smiley girl."

Maryse took a long swig of water and started to compose herself. "Oh, Rebecca, I don't mean anything bad by it. It's a good segment. But you can tell he loves you."

Becky glanced away again, pretending to be focused on the action on the screen. She and Seth were trying to not rush things, but if other people—especially people like Maryse who didn't know them all that well—were already tossing the word _love_ around, they really weren't going to be able to keep things a secret much longer. "Well, Joe's a great heel. You'd have to purposefully botch your spot to have a bad promo with him."

Maryse clucked her tongue and winked at Becky. "Ah, I see how it is. Monroe, is it time for your nap?" When the baby started straining at her arms, Becky turned and handed her back to her mother. "You're still worried about dating a wrestler, aren't you? About balancing out the whole work versus personal thing? I get that." She tucked a blanket around Monroe and cradled her against her chest. "Things were obviously different for Mike and me. I wasn't wrestling as much and . . . well, you saw what the Diva days were like. A different era."

"Yeah." Bra and panty matches. Pillow fights. Mud pits. All the sexist gimmicks that had deflated Becky's dreams and made her feel like there was no place for her in the WWE. "It's not Seth," she confided quietly, very aware that other wrestlers were nearby. "It's . . . the company. The perception. All that."

Maryse nodded, stroking Monroe's head gently and cooing to her in French. "All you can do is set boundaries early and stick to them. Once you give them an inch, they will try to take everything." When she glanced back up at Becky, the impish look was in her eyes again. "Do you think you'll teach your children to speak Irish?"

Becky rolled her eyes. "Are we back on kids again? Maryse, I don't kn—"

"Rebecca Lopez." Maryse toyed with the name, saying quickly and then drawing it out. "It has a nice sharpness to it." Then she laughed and added, "And Colby Quin sounds like he should be a Disney character. Maybe Quin-Lopez? It would be short enough to hyphenate without being too clunky, you know."

Becky couldn’t help but chuckle at that. They hadn't come remotely close to discussing marriage except in terms of friends who were having weddings soon; the prospect of children certainly hadn't been brought up aside from discussing birth control. "Maryse, you're horrible. How does Miz ever get a word in edg—"

"Lynch." Becky turned automatically and saw Samoa Joe, fresh off his promo, waiting at the edge of the seating area. "A word?"

It was an easy exit and Becky took it, even though she did want to watch the next match. "Nice talking with you, Maryse. Bye bye, Monroe." Becky gave the sleeping girl's hand a gentle pat before getting out of her seat and going around the perimeter of the chairs. When she was face to face with Joe, she nodded. "What's up?"

Joe jerked his chin towards the exit. "Walk with me a minute?"

Feeling the stares of several wrestlers on her back, Becky nodded again. "Sure."

They strode in silence for several moments until they were in a more technical zone of the backstage area, populated solely by the electrical crew. "You heard my bit out there?"

Becky figured it was best to keep her answers short and sweet; Joe was a guy who appreciated brevity and honesty. "I caught it."

Joe gave a thoughtful nod. "It's cool by you?"

It wasn't the response Becky was expecting and it took her a moment to process. "I—yeah. I mean, you never came flat out and said I was his girlfriend or anything. You mentioned me in the context of championships, not anything personal."

"Good. That was my intention." Then Joe gave her an appraising look. "I know how the McMahons can push things, but you have my word: if they ever tell me to mention you and Seth as a couple in one of my promos, I will tell you first. And if you aren't cool with it, then I won't do it. End of story."

"Joe. . . ." Becky took a deep breath and shoved her hands in her pockets. "I appreciate that, but just . . . just do your job. Whatever Creative puts down the pipe isn't on you."

Joe shook his head. "No. Fuck them. You deserve better. You don't want something being said, then it's not getting said, at least not by me. I can't promise they won't dump the line on someone else, but I can promise you it won't come from me."

"Thanks. I appreciate that." Becky knew they wouldn't get the same consideration from a lot of the wrestlers, but it meant a lot coming from Joe.

"No problem. Have yourself a good night, champ champ." And then Joe sauntered off, leaving Becky rather bewildered until she heard someone approaching. 

As she turned, she saw Seth, his expression somewhere between concern and confusion. "Hey," he said. "Maryse just told me Joe wanted to talk to you. Everything okay?"

Becky hugged him and gave him a quick kiss. "Yeah, all good. He basically said if he's given stuff to say about us as a couple, he'll run it by us first and if we don't like it, he won't do it."

"Huh." Seth kept his arms around her, resting his chin on her head. "And Maryse? What did she have to say? She seemed pretty pleased with herself. Was it some bullshit about us never dethroning her and Miz as the _It Couple_?"

Laughing, Becky leaned back to meet his gaze. "No. We talked about Monroe and. . . ." She stopped herself just before adding _and kids_ ; no need to give Seth a heart attack. "And she said _Rebecca Lopez_ sounds better than _Colby Quin_."

Seth took a moment to consider. "I don't know. Colby Quin. CQ. Could be good for merch." Then he leaned close to her ear. "But Rebecca Lopez sounds pretty nice to me too."

When Maryse had said _Rebecca Lopez_ , it was all in fun. Becky had never been the sort of girl to write out her first name with boyfriend's last names and admire the combinations. When Seth said it, though, it sounded completely different. She hated to break the moment, but she needed to get thinking about something else and _fast_ before she said something stupid. "Design has some new t-shirt designs for me to look over. If you have a minute, I'd appreciate your thoughts."

"Of course." Seth's voice was normal enough, but from the look in his eyes, Becky knew that combining her name with his had affected him too.

*

So many of Seth's most recent workouts had been done for videos that he was frankly surprised that there wasn't a camera every time he turned around. Something else was missing too: Becky. They didn't always work out together, of course. Sometimes their schedules didn't allow it. Sometimes they just wanted space; between working together and dating, there weren't many days when he didn't see her.

He didn't seem to be the only one missing her either. Finn, Sheamus, and Cesaro were there as well, and every once in a while Seth caught them looking around in confusion. "There's not enough orange in here," Cesaro said at last. "Sheamus, you'll just have to grow out your hair."

They all laughed, but the other three looked pointedly at Seth. "Any reason Becky's not with us today?" Finn asked lightly. "You know, just so we don't go in to work tomorrow and get a strip torn off us because you forgot to mention something?"

Seth shook his head. "We aren't joined at the hip, you guys. I don't know what she's all doing today. Something with Sasha, maybe? I know Sasha was talking about adopting a new dog and Becky said she would go with her for objectivity."

"Becky? Objectivity? With a _dog_?" Cesaro's laugh rang throughout the gym. "That will never happen. Ever."

"Maybe if it's not _her_ dog. . . ." But even Seth stopped short. Becky was the first to yell _Puppy!_ regardless if it was a baby Chihuahua or a full-grown Great Dane; there were times when they were out on dates that she would cross the road simply because a beautiful dog was on the other side.

"Well, as long as she knows she's welcome," Sheamus said, trying to refocus them all. "Back at it, lads. We've only got the gym for another hour." He motioned to Cesaro. "Spot me?"

"Sure." As he walked past, Cesaro wagged a finger at Seth. "Without Becky here, now we all have to keep you in line. She's adding to our workload."

Seth just laughed. "I'll tell her you said she was slacking." Then he turned to Finn. "Want to do some ball throws?"

"Man, Rollins, Becky leaves you alone for one day and—" Finn began, dissolving into laughter before he could finish the jab.

"You're all horrible!" Seth yelled out as he went to grab a wall ball, though he was laughing as well. In his experience, it was always a good sign when your fellow wrestlers approved of your girlfriend. After all, the people you wrestled with spent more time with you than almost anyone else in your life; they saw you at your weakest and at your best, and everywhere in between. 

"All in fun, Rollins." Finn caught up with him, picking a ball and positioning himself a safe distance away from the spot Seth had chosen. "Look at it this way: If we didn't like your girlfriend, we wouldn't be asking about her, right?"

Scoffing, Seth dropped into a squat before launching the ball up. "Right. Maybe you like training with her better than me. Next time I'll go dog shopping and she can come work out with you losers." He was grinning as he said it, though, and when he glanced over, he saw Finn smiling as well. "Can I ask you something?"

"You can ask," Finn replied easily. "That doesn't guarantee an answer."

"Fair enough." Now that he had set himself up, Seth found himself hesitant. "How do you say _please_ in Irish?"

Finn gave him a curious look. "Are you trying your hand at love poetry now?" Then another possibility dawned on him and he shook his head vehemently, pausing mid-throw. "Nope. Not doing it, Rollins."

Seth caught his ball and held it so he could focus on Finn. "Not doing what? I just asked how you say—"

"I'm not translating Becky's sex talk for you!" Finn quickly glanced across the gym, but Sheamus and Cesaro were on the other side, far out of earshot. "She was my student and she's one of my dearest friends and she's like a sister to me."

"You—" Seth set his ball down and made a vague motion with his hands. "You mean you two never—?"

"NO." Finn shook his head incredulously. "Like I said, Rollins, she's like a sister to me. When she came to my school, she was fifteen. Yes," he added quickly, "she said she was seventeen so she could get in, but that's not the point."

"Sorry, sorry." Seth held his hands up in surrender. "I guess I just assumed that you two had known each other so long and spent so much time together that you eventually. . . ."

But Finn just shook his head. "Nope. Never. Never will, either. It would be too weird. To be honest, I was a bit surprised when you two got together, because you've been friends since NXT. But you're happy and she's happy, so. . . ."

Seth was quiet as he picked his ball up again and did another wall shot. "I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry, Finn."

"No worries. I know you have good intentions," Finn replied, catching his ball easily and launching it back up, "and if it were some random Irish girl you were dating, I probably would translate for you. This would just be a bit too awkward, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I get it." Seth wasn't about to give up, though. After all, Finn wasn't the only Irish speaker around. As they worked their way through their circuits, he waited until he was working with Sheamus to try again. "Hey, how do you say _please_ in Irish?" he asked.

Sheamus raised an eyebrow, gesturing over to Finn. "Our fair prince wouldn't tell you?"

Seth huffed out a breath. "He thought I wanted him to translate Becky's sex talk, and it was awkward for him."

"Understandable." Sheamus nodded. "Have to say it might make me look at her strangely too, which isn't what you want. What if tell you some things you can say to her instead," he suggested, "so you can surprise her?"

"That could work," Seth mused. "I mean, I know I don't have the accent. . . ."

"Lad," Sheamus chuckled, "if you're doing your job right, she shouldn’t be worrying about your accent." Then he started saying some simple phrases, having Seth repeat them as best he could before translating them. 

It did feel a bit awkward, Seth had to admit, but by the time their workout and his impromptu Irish lesson were over, he felt confident enough to try some of his newly learned lines on Becky when she called him later. "Hey, babe. All the boys missed you at the workout today. Should I be feeling jealous?"

On his laptop screen, Becky rolled her eyes. "Right. They were probably happy to have another washroom to use."

"Seriously. They all said it felt weird not having you there." Seth leaned back against his headboard. Even on a screen, she was gorgeous. Her hair was up in a messy ponytail to combat the heat and it made him want to kiss his way along her jaw line.

Becky smiled at last. "Aw. Well, I missed you all too. Maybe next time."

"Did Sasha find a dog?" Seth was guessing not, since Becky wasn't talking a mile a minute about all the dogs she would have interacted with, but he was still trying to work his way up to a segue. After some rather disastrous results with nude photos, sexting, and social media, he was far more cautious about what he said and did on his computer.

"No, but I got knocked over by the most beautiful bull mastiff I've ever seen! It was awesome. Her name was Lola and she had the colouring of a German Short-haired Pointer and she was just the business." Then Becky sighed. "I wish I were home enough to have a big dopey dog. I love them so much."

Seth drummed his thumbs on the frame of his laptop. Maybe he should have double-checked the phrases with Finn, or at least tried to look them up online, though he didn't have the faintest idea how to spell anything in Irish. _Nothing ventured, nothing gained_ , he thought, stumbling over the first phrase Sheamus had taught him.

Becky looked more confused than anything. "Um. What's that supposed to be?"

Seth shut his eyes and shook his head. Damn Sheamus probably gave him a bunch of nonsense Irish-sounding words. "Nothing. I—"

"Were you asking Sheamus how to say things in Irish?" Though she was laughing, Becky was also biting her lip the way she did when she was secretly pleased and trying to hide it.

"How do you know it wasn't Finn?" Seth countered, sitting up a bit straighter. He had already made a fool out of himself, so there was no point in getting defensive. At least she seemed to appreciate the gesture.

Becky wiped some tears of laughter from the corners of her eyes. "Because Finn would never tell you to say _that_."

"What did I _say_?" Seth's eyes widened in exasperation. He really needed to start learning Irish. He would have to ask Miz how he was learning French.

"It's . . . ." Becky started laughing again, pressing her hand to her mouth. "I'll have to have a little talk with Sheamus someday. I'm going to guess you were trying to say something about my pussy. Let's just say that you . . . didn't."

At least she was being a good sport. "It wasn't an insult, was it?"

Becky shook her head and dried her eyes again. "No. Really, it's . . . childish nonsense. But it was sweet of you to try. I know Irish isn't the easiest language to learn."

Seth let out a snort. "Tell me about it."

Leaning in closer to her tablet, Becky smiled. "So what other helpful phrases did he teach you?"

"Let's not." Seth took a deep breath before plunging on. "Okay, now that I made myself sound like an idiot, what else did you and Sasha—"

" _Nee-us div-nah_." Becky's voice had gone soft and low, but it brought Seth to a crashing halt. He always loved hearing her speak Irish, but there was something in her eyes that told him these were words he would definitely want to know.

"What's that mean?" he croaked.

" _Nee-us div-nah_ ," Becky repeated, "means _deeper_." With a smirk, she added, if you don't trust me, I can spell it out for you and you can look it up."

"I like that one." Seth felt a slow grin curve his lips. "What about _harder_?"

" _Harder_ ," Becky answered, "is _nee-us laycha_."

Seth repeated it a few times to himself. "So is that _nee-us_ world like . . . a comparative or something like that?"

Becky nodded, giving him a slow smile of her own. "I thought I'd start you with some simple ones. Like _nee-us moe_ : more."

"That one sounds familiar," Seth chuckled. Now that he was hearing it in isolation, with Becky speaking clearly, he could recognize it as something she usually moaned when he had his fingers inside her.

"Would you like me to make you a list?" 

"That depends. Will it be illustrated?" Seth heard her breath catch as he gave a low chuckle. "I'm a visual learner, you know."

"Oh, I know." Settling back in her chair, Becky continued. " _Nee-us m'willa_ means _slower_."

"You better start _going_ slower," Seth drawled, "or else you're going to have to teach how to say _I'm coming_ really damn quick." He'd already had to move the laptop down onto the bed and the urge to reach inside his pants and start stroking himself was burning him up.

Becky's chuckle was low and lewd and didn't help at all. "That's _tay-im egg chockt_. Well, one version anyway. There's a few different ways to say _faster_. . . . "

_Fuck it_. Seth made sure only his head and shoulders were visible to the camera before undo his pants. "Tell me all of them," he said, voice rough, "and _softer_ and _Fuck me_ and—"

" _Nee-us m'willa_." Becky's voice was lightly chiding.

Seth had barely started jerking off, and he was already struggling to remember. "More?"

Becky shook her head. "Slower. More is _nee-us moe_ , remember?" Was she touching herself too? It was harder to tell because she was on her tablet, but he thought her cheeks looked more flushed than normal.

"Fuck, Becks, don't stop." Seth sank his teeth into his bottom lip.

" _Don't stop_ ," Becky answered in a purr, "is _naw stodd_. And yes, I plan on quizzing you tomorrow."


	9. Breaking the Internet

If you were pregnant, it seemed like the safe time to announce it was between the ten- and twelve-week mark. At least that's what Becky had heard. She wasn't pregnant, but the more time that went by without her and Seth making their relationship public, the more she felt like she was carrying some extra weight; it was just the emotional kind. Part of her loved having their connection all to themselves without having to wade through endless internet drama and small-minded spite, but she knew that wouldn't last forever. If it was bound to happen, she preferred it happen on their terms.

Her mother had given her surprisingly similar advice about disclosing their relationship when she asked for her advice after Wrestlemania. "Wait until it feels right," her mom said. "You'll know when. In the first few weeks, it's usually all the good stuff: the fun, the exhilaration, new love. Once it settles a bit in the second or third month, that's when you know."

But Becky still wasn't sure. Charlotte and Andrade had essentially announced their relationship at the Hall of Fame ceremony, and so far WWE wasn't pushing it. When Becky asked how they managed it, Charlotte said she had made the request: Andrade was still working his way up the ranks, and she didn't want people think he was getting preferential treatment because he was her boyfriend. That, too, was inevitable, but they could at least delay it a while. Some other dating superstars made subtle announcements on their Instagram accounts with poignant pictures. Becky still wasn't sure what felt right for her and Seth. Since they were both champions, they bore different expectations.

When she called her mother on the American version of Mother's Day—a habit she picked up when she first moved to Canada—Becky barely got a word out before her mother asked, "Rebecca, when are you announcing it?"

"What?" The question took her so by surprise that, for a minute, she forgot why she called. "Happy American Mother's Day, by the way."

"Thank you, love." Her mother gave a soft chuckle. "Now answer the question! When are you announcing it?" Before Becky could play dumb, she added, "That you're dating Seth?"

"I'm fine, Ma. How are you? Hope you're well. It's nice being on the same side of the pond for a chance. I've been busy, but you know. . . ." Becky stopped with the small talk when her mother started full-out laughing. 

"Okay, okay. Point taken." Her mother paused. "But I still want to know when the announcement is so I can be sure to keep my eyes peeled."

Becky rolled her eyes and curled up in her hotel chair. She and Seth were waiting for their car to take them to the arena, and he had stepped out to talk to Roman. "Soon," she said at last. "I guess. I don't know. I don't want to jinx it." Then she glanced at the hotel room door. "I mean, I want it to work. So it should probably be a coordinated thing, right?"

"Maybe. Or you could surprise him. Does he like surprises?" her mother asked.

Becky was suddenly very glad she hadn't made a video call, because there would have been no disguising her expression. As much as she loved her mother, there were certain things she was not going to discuss with her, at least not on the phone. "Depending on the surprise, yeah," she hedged. "And he agrees that we should do it soon, if only to put all the rumours to rest."

"That's smart. Well, I know you'll find the right way, sweetheart. You always find your way." Becky didn't have to see her mother to picture the pride in her smile. "Good luck with that, and with your match."

"Thanks, Ma. I appreciate it. Do you—" When she heard the door's lock beep, she straightened up a bit. "Oh, I've got to go, Ma. Our car's here. Talk soon."

"Talk soon. Love you."

A moment after the beep, Seth entered the room, a smile brightening his face as soon as he saw Becky stand. "Hey." When he noticed the phone in her hand, he stopped. "You didn't have to end your call because of me. The car's going to be here in ten minutes so I'm just gonna take our bags down to the lobby."

"It was my mom, so if I stayed on much longer, we would've been late." Dropping her phone on the chair, she went on tiptoe to kiss Seth, breath catching a bit when he wrapped his arms around her waist and swung her off her feet. "But I'm ready to go," she said when Seth finally set her down. "The Man can carry her own bag, you know." That was another thing they'd had to be careful with: their comings and goings, leaving just enough time between each other that they didn't seem to be following one another.

"I'm aware. Shall we, then?" Seth gestured to the door and grabbed his bag. "Don't forget your Twitter machine," he added, gesturing to her phone. "Who are you baiting now?"

"Maybe I should go for Steph," she mused. "I mean, if she was willing to fight Ronda. . . ." Tucking her phone in her bag, Becky followed Seth out into the hallway. "It could be a mixed tag! Steph and Hunter versus me and you. The Old Guard versus the Vanguard. Winner gets to pick the new general manager of RAW."

Seth laughed. "And who would you pick? Big E?"

"My stepfather-in-waiting?" Becky cackled. "Never!" Big E's Twitter comments on a photo of her mother earlier in the week had spiraled in a very bizarre way, and she was still getting tagged in replies about it.

"Good point. I don't want to work for my potential stepfather-in-law." Seth crinkled his nose as he thought, jabbing the button for the elevator. "Is that even a thing?"

"Probably, nowadays." Under the guise of checking her bag's zippers, Becky crouched down to hide a small, giddy smile. There had been more and more casual comments like that between them in the past couple weeks, hints what they might do in the future. She didn't want to read too much into them, but each one dispelled a bit of the uncertainty she felt over dating a fellow wrestler, especially such a high-profile one. 

"C'mon, Irish." Seth tugged lightly on her arm when the elevator opened. He stepped in first and held the door while she rolled her bag in. "Everything okay with your mom?"

Becky nodded, toying with the handle of her bag. "Yeah. I just called because it's Mother's Day. The American one, anyway. I call on the Irish one too. For everything I put her through," she quipped, "she deserves more than two days of being honoured."

Seth gave her a wicked grin. "Are you saying you were a wild child, Rebecca Quin?" They were alone in the elevator, but they were both aware of the security cameras, so he only gave her a playful punch to the shoulder. Grainy security camera footage of them making out in a hotel elevator was not how she wanted to declare their relationship to the world.

"I was the very picture of innocence, I'll have you know." Becky tried to feign shock, but she dissolved into giggles far too quickly, and Seth had to pull her and her bag out of the elevator on the main floor before the door closed on her. "Why, I do declare," she drawled, mocking Lacey's accent, "how dare you sully my fine and upstanding character with your nasty lies?"

Leaning close, Seth whispered, "You are quite fine when you're standing up, I'll give you that." Then he led the way to the secure parking area WWE had rented out. "That's us," he said, pointing out a driver holding a sign that read ROLLINS.

Becky went on tiptoe and pretended to look around for more signs. "What's that? Where's the LYNCH sign, huh?"

"If you want your name on the sign," Seth replied, waving to the driver, who opened up the back of the SUV for their bags, "then you call in the request next time."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Becky pulled her phone out of her bag before the driver could stow it for her. "This is my 'Twitter machine'," she replied, making air quotes with her free hand. "You, apparently, have a _phone_."

Seth rolled his eyes and snuck a quick kiss on her cheek before opening the rear door for her and motioning her inside. "Next time, I'll get two cars."

Becky gasped in mock horror. "Don't tell Daniel Bryan. He'll be upset that we didn't arrive on biodegradable bicycles." While Seth leaned forward to tell something to the driver, she settled in with her phone and opened Twitter. She had been wanting to goad Edge and Beth; Edge couldn't wrestle anymore, but Becky always wished she could have had a feud with Beth back in the day.

She missed going back and forth with Sasha or Charlotte; even Bayley's sass game was improving. Edge and Beth were in parent mode and needed a bit of nudge to rekindle their fighting spirits. So Becky scrolled through some of her photos and picked one, tagging Beth in the post. They went back and forth for a bit before Becky tagged Edge as well; Beth was a great wrestler, but not the best at verbal barbs.

 _Wait wait . . . are we involving our men now?_ Becky's heart fluttered a bit when she read Beth's most recent reply. Did Beth know about her and Seth? Their relationship was common knowledge backstage, but it wasn't exactly like Becky and Beth talked a lot.

Becky glanced over at Seth. He was on his phone as well, and though she couldn't read his screen well enough to tell, it looked like he might have been on Twitter. Maybe Facebook; there were a lot of words, anyway. A flurry of thoughts tore through her mind: it was _Game of Thrones_ night, so he might not even see her tweets until tomorrow; on one hand, announcing a relationship on Twitter was probably tacky, but also very in keeping with their style; no matter what medium she chose, it could all go horribly wrong, so what did it matter? She thought of her mother's encouragement, Maryse playing with their names, all the gentle teasing from her friends. Before she knew it, she was typing. _I'll ask him….. wwerollins?_

She hit send before she could talk herself out of it. When the world didn't explode a minute later, she took a deep breath and kept going.

Becky was so focused on not second-guessing her tweet that she didn't realize Seth was looking at her until she felt that familiar shivery sensation between her shoulders. "Becky. . . ." She couldn't quite read his gaze. "What are you doing? What is this?" He tilted his phone so she could see the fateful tweet on the screen.

She gave him a coy smile, hoping in hid her sudden lack of surety. "It seemed like as good a segue as any," she said vaguely. "We both agreed we should announce it soon, so I th—"

Seth pulled her close and gave her a long, deep kiss that made Becky lose her grip on her phone. "I love you," he whispered, sliding a hand into her hair. 

"I didn't think you were going to check your phone until after you'd watched _Game of Thrones_ so you could avoid spoilers," Becky admitted, still giddy from the kiss. "So . . . sorry about all the notifications you're going to get, I guess?"

Seth just laughed and kissed her again. Now that they were officially announced, it didn't matter if the driver saw them making out in the back, after all, and with each kiss, Becky was more and more assured that she had done the right thing at exactly the right time.

*

If Seth had been wondering how long it would take the news to spread, he needn't have bothered. They had barely arrived at the arena before Big E strode out, puffing out his already huge chest. "Excuse me, young man. What exactly are your intentions towards my future stepdaughter?"

Laughing, Becky ducked around Big E's wide shoulders. "Have fun!" she called out on her way to the women's locker room.

Once Becky was out of earshot, Big E gave him a hug. "Seriously, Rollins, I'm happy for you. You two are, as the kids say, _adorkable_. And now you two don't have to be all cagey in public anymore, right?"

"Well, there is that." Seth wasn't totally sure being able to kiss in public quite made up for not being constantly scrutinized, but he wasn't mad. Any joint statement they could have made would have sounded forced and phony; Twitter was at least prime Becky behaviour. "I'll miss us being . . . just us," he said, struggling for words, "but it's good to have it out there too." In a weird way, it made it more real. The past few months with Becky had been amazing, but also infuriating. Every time he wanted to post a picture on Instagram or a comment on Twitter, he had to consider whether it referenced her in some way. Now that their relationship was public—or at least open on Twitter; he was sure it would be splashed over the wrestling sites before the end of the night—the barrier between his work life and his personal life wasn't quite as restrictive.

"Bro!" Xavier Woods hurried up, shaking his phone at Seth like a cranky old woman trying to make a return at a store. "BRO! She tagged you, man! _She tagged you!_ And you haven't even replied yet! How can you leave your girl hanging like that? And on _GoT_ night no less!"

Big E puffed up his chest again. "Yeah. I expect you to be an honourable young man and declare your love for my darling future stepdaughter forthwith!"

Xavier turned to Big E with a sharp look. "E, you leave Mama Lynch out of this!"

Seth took advantage of their playful bickering to make a quick escape, grabbing his bag and heading to the locker room. On the way, he fielded a bunch of congratulations; it was obvious who had checked Twitter recently and who hadn't, because some people seemed utterly oblivious to what was going on. Finn was clearly one of the ones who saw, because he stood as soon as he saw Seth enter the locker room and went over to hug him. "I would say _Congratulations_ ," he joked, "but I have a sneaking suspicion that Becky sprung that on you."

"A little bit," Seth agreed with a laugh, "but we had been talking about putting it out there, so it wasn't totally out of the blue. I'm not mad. It worked in context and it suits Becky, so. . . ." Then he shrugged. "We probably should have told Hunter first, but. . . ."

Finn just shrugged. "Honestly, he probably expects something like this out of Becky. And it's casual enough that they can brush it off if they want, say it's some Mixed Match Challenge teaser or something." He patted Seth's shoulder before going back to his bag. "Besides," he added, pointing to Seth's phone, "now you can actually look at that picture on your phone without hunching over every time someone walks past!"

Seth glanced down at his phone and smiled. The picture in question was one of the stills from Wrestlemania, when he and Becky had kissed just after his victory over Brock Lesnar. It was a great shot, but since they hadn't been an open couple, Hunter had held it back from any of the official channels. It gave him an idea, and he parked his bag by Finn. "I'll be right back." He dodged more well-wishers on his way to Hunter's office, texting him as he knocked. "Hey, Hunter, quick question for you—" he began.

Hunter raised an eyebrow and his phone at the same time. "I gathered that. Come in. What is it?"

The phone suddenly felt like a brick in his hand. The picture was technically WWE property. Did they really want to hand their relationship over to the whims of the McMahons? Seth took a deep breath and showed Hunter the picture. "You saw what Becky posted on Twitter?"

Hunter's smile was somehow both pained but indulgent. He had a notorious soft spot for his NXT grads; he wouldn't let them get away with murder, but he also knew the complexion of the business was changing and that WWE would have to be flexible right along with it, so he gave them a bit more latitude than Vince would have. "Yeah." He pointed to Seth's phone. "It's a good picture."

"Yeah. Some of the guys bug me for keeping it on my phone, but. . . ." Seth started to bite his lip before he remembered who he was talking to. He considered Hunter a friend, but right now, he was technically talking to one of his bosses. "I was thinking of posting it to Instagram tomorrow as a reply. Would that be okay?"

"Tomorrow?" Hunter raised an eyebrow. "Making your girl wait, or too busy celebrating tonight?"

Seth wasn't sure how to respond. "Well, it's _Game of Thrones_ night," he began slowly, "and then—"

Hunter held up a hand to quiet him. "It's fine, Rollins. We were going to talk to you guys about using that footage in Becky's WWE24 special anyway, so it'll tie in nicely. I'll spin it to Vince and clear it with photography." Then he patted Seth's shoulder. "You two are good together. Don't screw this up."

"Thanks." Seth wasn't sure if that was a vote of confidence or a warning or a bit of both, so he gave Hunter a nod and left, hurrying back to the locker room. Finn had already left, but his bag was where he left it and he got dressed quickly. 

The rest of the night was a bit of a blur. He didn't even really register whether the crowd seemed to know what Becky had posted. Then there was his regular _Game of Thrones_ viewing party to think about, and by the time he got back to the hotel, it was already early morning and Becky was lightly dozing, sprawled on top of the covers in nothing but her underwear. When he tried to curl the blanket over her, she turned over and opened her eyes. "Hi," she said, voice thick and eyes bleary.

"Hey." Seth settled beside her and gave her a soft kiss. "Go back to sleep. You look tired."

Becky tried to hold his gaze, but her eyes kept drooping. Ever since she had declared herself The Man, she had been going almost non-stop. He knew she loved it and wouldn't change a thing, but it also meant she didn't always get as much sleep as she should. "You're not mad . . . about the Twitter thing?" she mumbled, already sliding back into sleep.

"Not a bit." Seth stood, pulled back the blankets where he had been, and then picked Becky up gently, settling her under the covers. "Seriously, go back to sleep. We'll talk later."

"Heh. _Talk._ " Becky had one hand sticking out of the blanket and it looked like she was trying to make air-quotes, but her fingers slackened mid-motion.

Seth shook his head in amazement. Even half asleep, she could still bring the attitude. Keeping as quiet as he could, he undressed and washed up, sliding gently into the other side of the blankets. Still deeply asleep, Becky instinctively curled up against him, resting her head on his shoulder. He very gingerly reached for his phone and, after turning the brightness down so far he could barely read the screen, he opened Instagram and tried the photo in a few different filters. Ultimately, he left it as it was. He could have posted it and left it as a surprise for her to wake up to, but he wanted to tease her just a little bit—let her think he wasn't going to reply.

After he set his phone aside, Seth fell asleep quickly too, lulled by Becky's warmth. He half-woke during the night when she whimpered, and he noticed that some her hair was pinned under him. Groggy, Becky rose up on an elbow to free it. "See, this is why I like being a top. Freedom of movement."

Seth ran a hand down her bare back. "I'm not stopping you." They had an early flight, so they both really needed the sleep, but if she was offering, he was hardly going to decline.

Becky took the invitation, slowly crawling over him and kissing him. Her curls were spilling everywhere, but her hands were too busy with his chest, while his were working her underwear down out of the way. "How was your show?" she asked between kisses. "How are my dragons?"

He had to laugh. The fact that they could actually maintain most of a conversation during sex had been a bit weird at first, but he had quickly grown to love it. It only worked when they were taking their time, but somehow it made it even more intimate. "You and your dragons," he teased, tapping her leg so she knew to kick her underwear down the rest of the way.

It was glorious and slow and completely worth the lost sleep, even though Seth was fairly certain Hunter might not see it that way. Before they both drifted off to sleep again, Seth double-checked his alarm, but it still felt like it rang far too soon.

The day's schedule kept them apart for much of the afternoon, and he took the opportunity to post the picture then with a simple caption: _I guess I’m allowed to post this now.... beckylynchwwe_. If the Becky's tweet had made waves, the photo started a tsunami. After the first few hundred likes and retweets, Seth had to shut off his notifications just so his phone would be quiet. "I broke the internet today," he joked with one of the interviewers backstage at that night's event. "I did that."

Of course, Becky caught wind of that pretty quickly, and it didn't take her long to find him and corner him backstage. "So I hear you broke the internet, hm? You did that? All by yourself?"

Seth gave her a smug smile, knowing how it was guaranteed to fuel her temper that much more. "Well, I'm the one who posted the picture, so. . . ."

"A picture of the two of us. And only because I posted the tweet," Becky countered. "Otherwise it would just be in some archive—"

"Nope." Seth hadn't realized he had never shown her the picture on his phone, so he handed it to her. "I asked for a copy. Had it for weeks. Hunter said he didn't care as long as I didn't post it. And yes," he added quickly, "I asked first, unlike _someone_ —"

Becky pushed him back against the wall and gave him a kiss just as heady as the one he had sprung on her in the car the day before. This one went on far longer, though, long enough that when she settled back on her feet, most of the attitude in her eyes had melted away. "You had that on your phone?" Her mouth was twitching with a smile she tried to suppress, and Seth freed it with a quick kiss. This was the closest to besotted he had ever seen her.

"Of course. It's my lock screen. Any chance I can get to look at you, I'll take." Her cheeks flushed and she tried to look away, but Seth took her face in both hands and kissed her again, keeping this one more tender and less likely to have them seeking out an empty room or convenient dark corner.

"Yeah, well. . . ." Becky couldn't quite find a comeback, though, so they lost themselves for a few minutes in a series of lazy kisses. Finally she stepped back, looking adorably rumpled; there would be no doubts about what she had been up to. "You go ahead and break the internet." She rose on tiptoe and gave his hair a sharp, sudden tug that left him gasping. "Because later tonight, I'll be the one doing the breaking."

Seth's chuckle was as ragged as the pulse he felt through Becky's fingers. "Oh really? Is that a challenge, Lynch?"

Becky's smile almost finished what the hair tug had started. "No. Like Paul Heyman says, it's not a prediction; it's a spoiler." Then she strode off, glancing back only one time to see if Seth was watching.

After watching her go, Seth took a moment to compose himself before pushing off the wall and continuing on his way. Normally he wasn't a fan of spoilers, but he had a feeling he was going to like this one.


	10. Money in the Bank 2019

Becky didn't mind losing. Seth knew that. She was a competitor at heart and always had been, even when she had taken a break from wrestling. No one could stay a champion forever; they both knew that all too well. But the murmurings from Creative about how she was going to lose at Money in the Bank hadn't sat well with her. When he'd asked what the current plan was, she would only shake her head. "Does it matter?" Her voice wasn't even dejected; it was simply tired. 

So he was waiting outside the office for her, phone ready in his hand in case she tried to send him a stealthy text. The Money in the Bank event was hours away, so neither of them had to be ready in a hurry. If she got bad news, he would hear her out and offer what solace he could; if the news happened to be good—which he sincerely doubted—then they would still have time to duck out of the arena to celebrate before they had to be backstage.

She didn't exactly storm out of the office, but he could tell she was upset. Her fingers clenched around her phone so tightly he could hear the plastic case groan and he leapt to his feet, prying her phone from her hand before she could break it. "Hey." Seth cupped her chin with his other hand to make her face him. "What's wrong? What did they say?"

Becky sighed and shook her head, looking back at the office door with a mixture of frustration and resignation. That wasn't a good sign. "I don't want to talk about it here," she said simply.

"Okay." Seth pulled her to his chest and held her until her breathing evened out. "The arena's empty except for the set-up crews. Want to go out there?"

"Sure." Becky mostly sounded like she wanted to be anywhere but there, but Seth kissed her softly before stepping back and snaking an arm around her waist.

They were mostly quiet as they walked out through the stage area and into the seating, heading up into the higher rows for privacy. Far below, crews were setting up the ring and the lighting, but up where they were was like their own little world. Seth waited until she chose a spot and then he sat on her right, resting a hand on her leg. "So what's up?"

"I'm dropping the blue belt tonight." Becky stared out at the lighting rigs for a long moment. The crew was testing out various entrances now, fine-tuning the timing sequences, and the shadows crossing her face made her expression even bleaker. Clenching her jaw, she snorted out a long breath. "It's not that I have to lose—okay, not entirely," she admitted. "If Charlotte was a double champ, she'd probably get to keep both belts for at least half a year before they made her drop one. It's the set-up. And it's stupid, because I know they've done this type of loss so many times before. I shouldn't be surprised. And I'm not. I'm just . . . tired, I guess. For all the talk of things changing, nothing really is."

Seth squeezed her leg gently, keeping his hand closer to her knee. He would comfort her however she wanted, but he could tell she wasn't in the mood to make out at the moment. "Let me guess," he said. "Interference by Lacey?"

Becky nodded. "So Charlotte will get another reign, but it's a token one since there's going to be the cash-in." She ran her hands through her hair. "And I'm not pissed at her either. They want to boost her numbers so she can beat Ric's record and . . . I don't know. It feels cheap to me. Char doesn't need to have victories handed to her. She's one of the best wrestlers in the company."

"She is." Seth was suddenly very glad he had been waiting for Becky outside the office and not Charlotte. Becky wouldn't mean to snap at her best friend, but when her frustration wore her patience too thin, her common sense could take a sudden vacation. "Is Bayley still the favourite to get the briefcase?"

"Yeah. They assured me of that, for whatever that's worth." Becky dropped her hands to her lap, sliding one over his. "So I guess that's the bright spot. She deserves another title run, and I think she'll really blossom on SmackDown. They're a good bunch over there."

Seth reached over and smoothed out the sections of hair she had mussed. "You're gonna miss them when you're on RAW." Now that they were an established couple, WWE wanted to have them both on the same show. They hadn't even talked about moving Seth; bumping Becky over to RAW was supposed to be considered a promotion, going to the A-Show, but he wasn't so sure Becky saw it that way.

"Of course. Maybe it was just me, but it kind of felt like NXT in a lot of ways. New, developing, always changing; you felt like each match mattered." Becky shut her eyes and leaned back into his hand. "Like you were a part of building something."

"You were the first SmackDown women's champion," he reminded her, leaning over to kiss her. "You'll always have a place over there." Movement in the lower level caught his eye and he noticed one of the lighting technicians point up to them. Someone carrying a large camera started climbing up to their row. "Incoming, Irish," he said, rubbing her neck before withdrawing his hand.

"What?" Becky followed his gaze to the stairs and she grimaced when she saw the photographer. "For fuck's sake." She shut her eyes and rested her forehead on his shoulder. "Can't we have ten minutes without a camera or a microphone in our faces?"

"It'll be quick," he assured her, gripping her hand. "I'll tell them were talking about something private and it's not a good time. We'll agree to one picture and that's it." When Becky didn't look convinced, he leaned close and kissed her cheek. "Ignore them. Pretend they aren't here. Look at me instead."

That made Becky smile a bit, at least. "You're probably much easier on the eyes."

The photographer must have sensed Becky's reluctance, because they hesitated at the end of the row. "I'm just trying to get some candid pre-show shots," they explained, hefting their camera. "Is this a bad time?"

"Actually, it is. We're discussing some personal matters." Before the photographer could offer to come back later, Seth added, "We'll do one shot, though."

"Okay, thanks." The photographer didn't push the matter, didn't even suggest a particular angle or pose. They just moved to the row below and started adjusting their flash for the dimmer lighting in the section.

Seth took Becky's hand again, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. "Just look at me, remember?" he murmured, barely moving his lips.

Becky met his gaze and smiled. The photographer would basically get her side profile, so the picture wouldn't capture the frustration in her eyes. As soon as she heard the tell-tale shutter click, Becky relaxed a bit.

"Thanks, guys. Good luck out there tonight!" the photographer said, retreating down the row.

Seth watched to make sure the photographer wasn't going to try sneaking any extra shots from the stairs, but they seemed to be heading down to the announce table. "All clear," he declared.

"Thanks." Becky pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes and shook her head to clear it. "Sorry. I don't know why I'm letting this get to me. It's a standard formula set-up. I know it's nothing personal."

"It's okay." Seth wrapped his arm around her shoulders, but with the armrest in between them, it wasn't comfortable for either of them. "Come on. Let's just walk around. When you would go to wrestling as a kid, where would you sit?" He started leading her down, pointing to various rows. "My first time, I was probably somewhere around there. Not the best seats, but Mom tried. When I had to buy my own tickets, they were higher up." Then he laughed. "I almost won some in a radio contest once, but they wanted the tenth caller and I was the ninth. I was so pissed."

The more he talked, the more Becky relaxed, so Seth chattered away, telling her about his wrestling school's current hopefuls and giving her an open invitation to visit. By the time they had made it to the stage area, she was smiling freely again, even it wasn't showing in her eyes yet. "One other bright spot," she said, as if their discussion up in the stands had never really ended. She pulled her phone out of her bag and opened a video file. "They gave me some sneak peeks of my WWE24 special." Leaning against him, she fast-forwarded to a familiar scene: the kiss Seth had used to respond to her Twitter call-out, the one he used as his lock screen. It was so easy to see it as a moment frozen in time; watching it as a video was a bit surreal, knowing that what had felt so intimate in the moment would actually be immortalized as a small part of Wrestlemania.

Seth buried his nose in her hair and laughed. "I like that you knew the exact time to fast forward to," he teased, tilting her chin up to kiss her.

The kiss didn't banish the last of Becky's lingering mood, but her eyes were definitely livelier. "Well, I do have my favourite parts," she admitted. Then she looked back out to where they had been sitting. "And I guess it's nice to have pictures of it so it's not all just memories. Sometimes I think I'm dreaming and that I'm going to wake up at any moment and I'll still be struggling down in NXT."

"Why? Did you have a crush on me when you were in NXT?" Seth had meant it to be teasing, but now that the thought was in his head, he was genuinely curious. There had been plenty of opportunities to ask her out before, but he had always thought she just considered him a friend.

"Excuse you," Becky scoffed, regaining some of her trademark spark, "who says I _ever_ had a crush on you? Maybe I'm just dating you to help your career. I mean, it's not like you were getting a lot of time on TV before we hooked up—"

Seth wrapped his arms around her and swung her around, dangling her feet off the stage. "Oh, I see how it is. It's just pity sex, right?"

Becky clung to his shoulders, nearly dropping her phone. "Hey! I haven't shown you the rest of the video—"

"Show me over coffee." Seth swung her back onto the stage and set her on her feet. "Let's get out of here for a bit." They wouldn't be able to sneak away for long, but every little bit of happiness that Becky regained would help get her through the night.

*

Another night, another interview. Everyone from The Rock to Stone Cold Steve Austin had warned her that this part of being a star would become draining and it was, but Seth's interventions during the day had helped buoy Becky's spirits enough that she was able to muddle through the predictable questions. At the moment, it was the WWE NOW pre-show crew, and Becky always did her best to be good with them. Pre-show work, whether it was wrestling or interviewing, was often underappreciated, and she knew all about how that felt.

Just as her segment was wrapping up, Becky felt a familiar shiver and with a slightly awkward segue from one of the interviewers, Seth approached, still dressed as he had been earlier that day. It was only a simple white t-shirt, but Becky still felt her breath catch. He looked so good in white. Damn him for wearing that when he knew she was barely keeping it together. If she thought about it, she might have actually asked him to wear that shirt. She might have even bought it for him to keep at her place. White, black, red, nothing: he looked incredibly and infuriatingly gorgeous in all of it. She tightened her grip on her belts a little bit and diverted her gaze for a second so she could refocus.

"Oh, hey, guys. Fancy seeing you here," he said, grinning down at her.

"Good to see ya," she said, starting to stammer. What was wrong with her today? He was only touching her shoulder and it made her struggle not to kiss him. "I'll let you—let you get on. . . ."

Seth kept his gaze on her the whole time, smiling at how flustered she was. "All right. You and the twins have a good night." His knuckles brushed her back just as she was leaving and she cursed him under her breath. At first his penchant for casual touches was cute, maybe even a bit funny; now they were playing havoc with her self-control.

Normally Becky would have stood just off-camera to listen to Seth's interview, but her thoughts were too scattered. She gave him a vague wave—and perhaps a flash of a middle finger for being so distracting—and started to turn, but she almost ran right into Naomi. "Hey, girl." Naomi's smile got wickedly wide when she looked past Becky to Seth.

"Don't start." Becky grabbed Naomi's elbow and started walking away, eager to put her belts down and chill out for a bit.

" _You and the twins have a good night,_ " Naomi echoed, cackling all the while. She was practically dancing with happiness beside Becky. "I bet he's gonna have fun with your twins tonight."

"Naomi!" Becky tried to sound stern, but she was almost choking on her laughter. Naomi had a wicked sense of humour and wasn't afraid to use it once she knew you were up to the challenge.

"What? You know it's true." Naomi pointed back to the interview area, now just barely in sight. "You two were practically eye-fucking back there!" She stopped and drew herself up to her full height, deepening her voice. " _Fancy seeing you here_. What cliché het porn talk is that? And then you being all cute with the stammering and shit, and he's practically touching you every chance he gets. . . ."

Was it that obvious? Becky made a note to talk to Seth about that. "It's been a weird day," she said in her defense. She had almost started to say 'long day', but she knew exactly how Naomi would choose to interpret that.

Naomi's spirits dimmed a bit. "I heard. No more Becky Two Belts." She wrapped her arms around Becky and gave her a big hug before looping an arm around her waist and leading her onwards. "At least you're not losing to the plank."

"Well, I sort of am," Becky replied, "but at least she doesn't get to have one of my babies." When she stopped to readjust her belts again, Naomi held out her hands, offering to carry one. Becky handed her the SmackDown title; she would have to get used to not having it anyway. "Thanks. It looks good on you."

"Why, Miss Lynch," Naomi drawled, imitating Lacey's accent, "I am in complete agreement with you in that regard!" Then she dipped into a mock curtsey, which Becky mirrored, and the two women started giggling madly, mocking every Southern cliché they could think of as they made their way back to the women's locker room. 

"Have you seen Char?" Becky asked as their giggles subsided. No matter what, she needed to let her best friend know she wasn't upset with her for how things were going to turn out. "She doesn't think I'm mad at her, does she?"

Naomi shook her head. "Nah. She knows if you're upset, it's with the booking, not her. And I don't blame you. I thought they'd let you stay doubled up at least until Extreme Rules."

Becky shrugged. "Can't stay on top forever. I knew that when I got onto the wave."

"Well, you'll always be one of my favourite champs," Naomi declared, linking arms with Becky.

"Really? On Instagram, it feels like you're trying to get me pregnant and Charlotte pregnant so we're all out of your way." Becky gave her a nudge so she knew she was joking. Naomi always left the most enthusiastic comments on her posts, and they were always worth a smile—and sometimes a blush.

"You mean you're _not_ pregnant?" Naomi winked and patted Becky's flat belly. "It's all part of my heel turn, girl. Make sure all my opposition is out pregnant, and then all the belts will be mine."

"But if I'm pregnant," Becky countered, "I'd be wrestling for two. I could be women's tag team champions. If it was a girl, anyway." She quickly shook her head. There was no way she was going down the pregnancy road. She and Seth had only ever discussed children in the vaguest sense when they were still just friends, in the vague 'Do you see yourself having kids?" way.

"And if it's a boy," Naomi continued, "you could be the first mixed-tag champions." She bumped hips with Becky and smiled. "You know I'm just joking, right? I'm happy for you and I'm happy for Seth, and I'm glad that you seem so happy, because I haven't seen you looking so good for a while. And you know I'm not talking about your make-up game. You're glowing."

"In a completely non-pregnant way," Becky emphasized. You never knew who was listening backstage, eager to run with a rumour to the wrestling websites. 

"Yes, but you know what I mean!" Naomi hugged her arm tight. "I've seen you when you were dating some of those other guys and yeah, sure, you were happy enough. You were having fun and all that. But Becks, you fucking glow around Seth. It's adorable. And the way he _looks_ at you! GIRL!" With her free hand, Naomi fanned herself. "I thought if I didn't get you away from that interview set, you might have dragged him away."

Becky couldn't really dispute that. "I'll have to start wearing Asuka's mask or something. God, are we really that bad?"

"No! No, Becks, it's not bad at all. It's so beautiful to see." Naomi pulled her off to the side where they could both sit on some spare folding chairs. "He gets you. He gets all of _this_ , this life. He's just as passionate and driven as you are. He gets it. And you get him in the exact same way. And that's massive. Trust me, it makes a huge difference in whether a relationship will work." She patted Becky's knee and handed back her SmackDown belt when she saw Charlotte coming. "I know you were worried about dating a wrestler and making it public and having it in the stories, but I think you two are strong enough to make it work."

"Thanks, Naomi. I appreciate it." It wasn't the vote of confidence Becky had been looking for that day, but it still put her at ease. Naomi knew all about having a relationship with someone else on the roster. "Hey, Char."

"Hey, ladies. Naomi, you don't have to leave," Charlotte said, pulling up a chair.

"No worries. I need to get ready for my match. Good luck, ladies!" Naomi waved at them both and headed off.

Charlotte and Becky stared at each other for a long moment before Charlotte scooted closer and hugged her best friend. "I'm sorry, Becks. You know this isn't how I want my ninth."

"I know. I'd rather lose to you clean, but for whatever reason, they're intent on pushing Lacey." Becky rested her head on Charlotte's shoulder. "I don't know if it's the 'lady' angle or because she's military or what." She waved an irritated hand to Naomi, now barely in sight. "What about Naomi and Dana and Asuka? Hell, has Sonya even been in touching distance of a belt? She's a beast!"

"Maybe things will get better when Hunter and Steph have more power," Charlotte suggested, pulling the SmackDown title across to her lap. "I'll take good care of your baby for the whole five minutes I get her, I promise."

Becky raised the SmackDown belt and gave it a kiss. "You be good for Auntie Charlotte and Auntie Bayley. No shenanigans, you hear me?" Tucking the straps behind, she handed it back to Charlotte, who kept it nestled between them. "You really think things will improve?"

Charlotte shrugged. "I hope so. If we don't think they are, Becks, then why are we still here? We either have to work to change it, or we move on. But I know that wherever I'm wrestling, I want you there with me." She wrapped her long arms around Becky and hugged her fiercely, rocking her back and forth. "You and Sasha and Bayley bring out my best, and I try to bring out the best in all of you. Look how much has changed just since we were called up. Two women's belts instead of one. Women's tag belts. Women getting to main event RAW and SmackDown without it being a big deal. Ladder matches, cage matches, last woman standing matches. And now main-eventing Wrestlemania! We're doing it, Becks! It's just taking longer than your fiery Irish temper might like." She gave Becky's hair a playful tug.

"You're right. I know you are. I'm just having an off day, I guess." Something occurred to Becky that made her pause. Some of her best wrestling runs had happened when her personal life was in turmoil, as if the wrestling helped her purge all her frustrations. Now that she was so happy with Seth, was she losing her edge? Or were her eyes just opening to more and more of the cracks in her working life? "So I saw that Naomi's expecting babies from you too," she said, hoping to turn the conversation to lighter-hearted things.

"Oh my god!" Charlotte burst out laughing, squeezing Becky one last time before sitting back. "My dad called me and asked why I hadn't told him, and I had to explain that I wasn't pregnant! God, that girl." But she shook her head and smiled. "Sweet of her, though. It's nice to have the support. There are so many shitty comments that sometimes I wonder why I post anything."

"Pure spite?" Becky suggested. Charlotte had once got her a birthday card that read _We get along so well because we hate the same people_ and it wasn't far from the truth. As different as they appeared to be, they had a lot in common.

"That works." Charlotte stood and held out her hand for Becky. "Grab your twins and let's go practice for a bit. No planks allowed." She waited until Becky's hands were busy with both her belts to add, "Naomi's not wrong, you know? You and Seth are ridiculously adorable, but in a 'they're having screamingly hot sex' way."

"God, Char," Becky groaned, "not you too. . . ."

"What? I'm just saying. I don't think I've ever seen him be near you without him touching you, on the shoulder or the hand or whatever. It's cute." Charlotte wrapped an arm around Becky again and drew her close as they walked. "I'm glad my bestie is happy. You deserve the best. So you let him know that if he fucks up, he answers to me."

Becky laughed. "Charlotte Flair versus Seth Rollins in an intergender match, with Becky Lynch's heart on the line!" Her mock announcer voice fell apart as she giggled more and more.

Charlotte picked up the thread. "Ever since NXT, Charlotte's and Becky's fates have been intertwined. First they were best friends, then bitter enemies. But as soon as Seth Rollins entered the equation," she continued, "did the Queen finally realize what she had lost? Rollins may fancy himself the Kingslayer, but is he any match for an angry Queen?"

"We should suggest that to Hunter. I'm sure they'll totally book it. It'll be amazing: posters, montages, everything." Becky paused. "Actually, given some of the things Creative is doing, better not."

"Yeah. There might be crowns involved," Charlotte agreed, "and I don't want to mess up your pretty curls. _Come back to the castle, my princess!_ " She couldn't even finish the sentence without giggling.

Seth had been the one to start pulling her out of her slump, and Naomi and Charlotte had finished the job. The night might not go the way Becky had wanted, but there would be other nights, other fights, other titles. She had come so far and gone through so much to get where she was; if nothing else, she had to honour that.


	11. Fala Amo

He knew it was coming, so he was able to hide his flinch—at least the first time around. Paul Heyman at least had the decency to approach Seth and Becky directly and ask if he could reference their relationship in that night's spot, and neither of them had wanted to answer first. "It's probably going to be a jab saying I make you look weak," Becky had pointed out, "so it should be your decision." Seth had countered that anything said or even implied would reflect back on her, and the female wrestlers faced more scrutiny already. But Becky had left the final decision up to him, and Seth had ultimately agreed. Heyman didn't want to tell him the exact wording so he would get a more genuine reaction, and he had agreed to that as well. So much of their business was scripted that it was nice to have some surprises once in a while.

It didn't take long for Seth to question his judgement, though. He knew how long the spot was roughly supposed to run, and the more time passed with no reference to Becky, he started to second-guess himself. Heyman was a master on the mic, and if he made his jab right at the end of the spot, Seth wouldn’t have any opportunity to counter. And then the shot was fired: _You should be used to waiting, Seth Rollins. It's like waiting around at Wrestlemania for your girlfriend to main-event the show that you dreamt of main-eventing since you were—_

Seth had confronted Brock then, bringing an end to Heyman's jab, but it didn't sit much better with him when he and Becky were watching the replay. She didn't rewatch her own matches very often, but they both liked catching up on the matches that happened while they were doing interviews and promos. Normally she was calling out all sorts of commentary, but Becky had fallen curiously silent during his spot. "Hey, Irish, you awake?" She was stretched out on the hotel suite couch, legs draped over his lap, and he tickled the bottom of her feet, but she barely moved.

"I'm awake," she replied, voice muffled by the throw pillow under her head.

"What is it?" Seth gave up on the tickling and caressed her bare thigh instead, toying with the hem of the long tank top she was wearing. Sometimes they turned their rewatches into a strip version of a drinking game. One time, Paul Heyman had said 'Brock Lesnar' so often in a single promo that Seth was down to one sock in less than two minutes; there was now a Brock Lesnar clause to the game so it wouldn't end so quickly ever again. "You see me so much that my spots bore you now?" He started to reach for the remote. "We can watch something else—"

"It's fine." Becky reached for her drink on the coffee table, but Seth was quicker and he moved it out her reach. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to talk to you." He pinned her lightly to the couch, mindful of where her legs were. She would never hit him in the groin unless he really deserved it, but she might get upset enough to make a sudden move. "What's wrong? Is it what Heyman said? He came to us first and asked. You left it up to me and said you were cool with it."

At first he almost thought Becky's eyes were bright with imminent tears, but Seth realized it was something else: worry. " _Waiting around for your girlfriend?_ " she echoed, voice small. "Is this what we signed up for?"

Seth hated hearing her sound so unsure, so defeated. Between NXT and the main roster, when they were just friends, he had witnessed some of her biggest victories and most crushing lows; he had been there when she was laughing with utter delight and crying out of pure frustration. Through it all, though, there had been an unshakable vein of confidence, or so he had thought. "Becky, come on." He sat back and shut off the replay before pulling her up so she was sitting. When she didn't resist that, he drew her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her. "I was happy to wait for you. You know that, right? I would have waited for the whole damn day, because you worked your ass off for that spot and you deserved it."

Clenching her jaw, Becky breathed only through her nose, in rough, angry rasps that made Seth think of vengeful dragons. "I don't know what I was expecting, but I . . . I guess I just thought there was a way to do this without making either of us look weak. How did Maryse and Miz manage? Or Jimmy and Naomi?"

"Totally different circumstances, babe," Seth said gently, kissing her shoulder. "Jimmy's in the tag division, and they tried that angle with Miz connecting Naomi with music producers or something, remember? It kinda fell flat and they just abandoned it. As for Maryse. . . ." There wasn't nothing he could say about the insulting way the women's division had been handled in the past that Becky wasn't painfully aware of; it was one of the reasons she had given up on her dream.

Becky rested her forehead against his. "What about Matt and Lita, then? Hell, even John and Nikki. It feels like it fails more than it works, and . . . I mean, I'm not afraid of a failed gimmick." Her laugh was hollow and it hurt to hear it, especially when she was normally so upbeat. "God knows I've had my share and then some." Sighing, she cuddled into him a bit more, playing idly with his hair. "But I don't want _us_ to fail, you know? And I worry about life imitating art."

Trying to lighten the moment a bit, Seth gave her a slow kiss, waiting until her muscles relaxed even more before he pulled back. "Does that mean you kinda like me, then? You plan on keeping me around?"

With a chuckle that echoed through his shoulders, Becky replied, "Yeah, I kinda like you, you dope. I don't know why I'm so worked up over everything lately. I'm sorry. I'm not pregnant, I swear." She patted her belly for emphasis and then pressed his hand against it too.

Seth had a few theories about what was upsetting her. While Becky wasn't worried about Lacey as a threat, he knew it bothered her that someone just up from NXT was getting a title shot against her when there were so many deserving, established women on the roster who were still getting overlooked; she wanted matches against Naomi or Asuka, Sonya or Ember, and the management kept putting Lacey and Charlotte in her path. Then there were her Wrestlemania worries: the main event wasn't without its controversy due to the ending, and Becky was the first to admit that the match wasn't her best. She had fought so hard to propel herself forward, and now she felt like she was sliding back down the slope, back to the end of the line, and she didn't necessarily believe that the McMahons would give her another chance. "I'm not either," Seth quipped, mimicking her motions.

"I hope not." Becky kept her hand on his stomach and brought the other to join it, sliding them just under his t-shirt, twisting on his lap until she was straddling him. "I need to stop overthinking things, I know."

"I don't know about that." Seth ran his hands up her thighs again, fingertips just brushing the edges of her panties. "Overthinking some things is okay."

"Hmm." Becky's eyes were half shut. "Which things?"

"Like how many times I'm going to make you scream tonight," he teased, biting her lower lip lightly. "And I think we should have a new game: Each time you worry about how we're being portrayed on TV, I get to do whatever I want with you for half an hour."

"And that's supposed to make me stop?" Becky had his shirt halfway up his chest and was sliding her fingers into the spaces between his ribs. 

Seth just smiled. "No. I know I can't make you stop. But maybe it'll make you associate your concerns with something . . . more pleasant."

"Very psychological of you." Becky let her hands drop and she scooted back a bit until she was almost sitting on his knees. "So what's first, then?"

Before she could reach for the waistband of his pants, Seth grabbed her hands. "Stand up."

"Yes, Doctor Rollins." As she stood, she glanced around the room. "Should we be timing this?"

"You'll be forgetting all about the time in a few minutes." Seth scooted forward on the couch so that Becky was standing between his legs. "Now stand still," he ordered.

"Like a statu— _oh_." Becky couldn't finish her reply because Seth had started sliding her panties down her legs, leaving a trail of kisses in their wake. "Hands," she gasped. "What am I allowed to do with my hands?"

Seth grinned up at her. "Nothing, until I say so. Clasp them behind your back."

"But. . . ." Becky's panties were down around her ankles now, and her feet itched to rise and kick them away.

Wrapping a tight arm around her knees, Seth kept peppering her with kisses, focusing on her hips. "Be glad I'm still letting you talk," he whispered low against her belly, using his free hand to push her tank top up to her ribs.

"I still don't see," Becky sighed, "how this is supposed to be a deterrent."

"You'll find out eventually," Seth replied. In truth, he had no plan, no real game in mind. He just wanted to distract her from her worries—and, selfishly, he wanted to touch her, like always. When she started to lean into his touch, rising onto her toes, he tightened his arm around her legs and dug his fingers in. "Did I say you could move?"

Becky let out a shaky breath. "No."

"Then don't." A moment later, though, he changed his mind. "Unclasp your fingers and raise your arms above your head," he ordered, running his hands up her ribs. Her skin already felt like she was on fire and he had barely gotten started. 

"Thank fuck," she whispered, her words almost lost as Seth rose and pulled her tank top over her head. He tossed it somewhere behind her, but she didn't dare look.

"Arms down. Turn around," he ordered as he sat back down, gazing up at her wickedly. No matter how often he got to see her naked, he always relished that first glimpse.

"Um." Becky's fingers twitched, pointing to her feet. "My panties?"

Seth just raised an eyebrow. "Better turn around slowly then." Peering around her, he could see their reflections in the television screen. "And shut your eyes."

"Fine." Muttering under her breath, Becky inched her way around until her back was to him, careful not to trip on her panties.

"Now sit." Seth adjusted his legs to give her some room to maneuver. 

"On you?"

Seth reached up and took her hands to steady her. "Where else?"

Becky lowered herself slowly, not used to not being able to see where she was going, and she jumped a little when her feet left the floor, her panties falling away. Seth was still fully clothed; he hadn't even pushed his pants down. "And now?" Seth's right hand snaked up to her breasts, while his left rested on her thigh.

"Open your eyes," Seth commanded, kissing her bare back, "and watch." Then he slid his left hand between her legs and started to work. When he kissed his way up to her shoulder, he peeked over it to see her expression in the blacked-out screen. Eyes clenched shut, mouth gaping, hands grasping at anything they could hold to keep her steady. Not a hint of worry to be seen or felt. Perfect. "I forgot," he teased, nuzzling her back to tickle her skin with his beard, "to start timing for you."

As she melted back against him, he could feel Becky's thighs start to quiver. "Timing what?"

Seth smiled against her back. Just as he promised, she had already forgotten.

*

Sex and Seth were both wonderful distractions from her worries, but Becky had discovered another: house shows. The overall results were still dictated by management, but since the matches weren't televised, the wrestlers often had more freedom. Not only that, but the fans at the house shows didn't seem as jaded as the ones at taped events could be. The signs they brought were for the wrestlers to see, not the cameras. They cheered and booed for whoever they liked, knowing it couldn't be dubbed over to fit a certain narrative. Becky had discovered her love for wrestling at house shows and Seth had as well, and they were happy to give those so-called lesser crowds some special moments they alone would get to see.

Dark matches were almost as good. They were still within the confines of the show and there were still official cameras present, but the energy changed as soon as the televised version was done. That night, Becky had a dark match against Lacey—surprise, surprise—and Seth was still making his way up the ramp as her music hit. She stopped in front of him and hoisted her belt high, smiling broadly. His birthday was tomorrow, so she had several plans in play.

She didn't realize until the next day, when someone had posted fan footage, that he had watched her walk down the ramp, winking at the audience. It made her smile, so she saved it in a randomly named folder on her laptop, full of footage of their moments. Whenever she felt down or had doubts, she could browse through there and remind herself that amongst all the uncertainty, she truly was having the time of her life. Main-eventing Wrestlemania, being one of the top performers in the company, and having a boyfriend that seemed to love every facet of her: what more could she ask for?

She had scheduled a birthday post for him on Instagram days ago and even forgot about it until he nudged her awake late the next morning. "What's this?" he asked.

Becky shoved hair out of her eyes and took a moment just to admire him. He was stretched out beside her, leaning back against the headboard as he checked his phone. He already had his hair in a bun, to her dismay; she liked when he left it loose, even if he hated how unruly his curls could be. "Happy birthday," she murmured, sitting up so she could kiss him. She didn't even pause to laugh at how instinctively his gaze dropped to her breasts.

"Thank you." Seth gave her another kiss before leaning back. "Now answer my question before I claim an extra half an hour. . . ."

Laughing, Becky snuggled up beside him. "It's your birthday, Rollins. I was planning on letting you have the whole night." When she saw how high his eyebrows rose, she shook her head. "But if you just want half an hour, that's fine too. I mean, I'm sure Roman will want to hang out with you at some point today and—"

Seth grabbed a handful of her hair and kissed her until she was breathless. "You said a whole night, so I'm claiming a whole night." Once she was clear-eyed again, he showed her his phone once more. "When did you post this? That time stamp can't be right, because I know what we were doing then, and your hands were not on your phone."

It was the picture taken before Money in the Bank, when they were sitting up in the stands and the photographer had approached. It was one of her favourite shots of them, reminding her of how he could calm her down, smooth out the rough edges of her moods to make things bearable. "You're not the only one who can post pictures, you know," she replied vaguely, setting his phone aside so she could straddle him. "I thought you might appreciate it more than that pun I made on Twitter a few years back. . . ."

He quickly wrestled her over onto her back, pinning her just hard enough that she gasped. "Uh-uh. It's my birthday, remember?"

Being eclipsed by him always made Becky feel a bit giddy. Most of her previous boyfriends hadn't been strong enough to dominate her unless she let them. "I said you could have a whole _night_ ," she reminded, arching up against him when he slid a knee between her legs.

"I'll trade one of my other presents in," he promised, entering her with a sharp thrust.

Becky's laugh quickly turned to a gasp. "Bold of you to assume I got you more than one gift."

"Just wait until _your_ birthday, Irish." It made Becky's pulse race in a way that had nothing—okay, very little—to do with Seth's thrusts and touches, which were going to have her melted into a puddle in mere seconds. Her birthday was in late January, more than half a year away. They had been skirting around talks about their future for a while, but it always gave her a little thrill when Seth said something like that. Maybe it was just a throw-away comment, said in the heat of the moment, but she would take it.

"My birthday's in January," she teased, digging her nails into his shoulders. "The nights are longer then anyway. I win."

Seth came suddenly, elbows almost buckling, but he caught himself before he crashed down on her. "We'll see." He slid out of her, moving down the bed to finish her with his mouth. He usually loved to watch her when he did, but this time he kept himself fully focused on her orgasm. "So what's my next present?"

"Me not being able to talk for a few minutes?" Becky huffed. She had been planning on a slow seduction to start the morning, not a pounding that was going to probably leave bruises on her inner thighs. If they kept going like they did, she would have to change her ring gear to hide all the marks.

"Okay." Seth took that as a challenge rather than a compliment and proceeded to make her climax over and over, first with his mouth again and then a few more times with his hands. "And now that you won't be able to stand up long enough to shower," he grinned, crawling up the bed to kiss her, "I'm going to call dibs."

Becky waved a weak hand. "Have it. I got the better deal this time too." It took her a few minutes to feel solid again, and even then she stood gingerly, placing a hand on the wall as she walked to the bathroom. Steam was starting to fog the mirror and Seth had his water-proof speaker on the counter, playing "Mother Tongue", the song she had quoted in her birthday post. While Seth was busy running his fingers through his hair to untangle his curls, she slipped in behind him, pressing close. "If you would have waited a few minutes," she said, licking the tattooed characters along his spine, "I would have been happy to help." Then she slid a hand down his hip. "Maybe there's something else I can help with. . . ."

"I'm sure you'll think of something." Seth set his body wash down when he saw Becky go to her knees and gathered her hair in his hands. He wasn't the only one who knew how to tease.

The water was starting to cool off when she finally rose to her feet, but she didn't mind. A little bit of chill was well worth that hazy look in his eyes. "We really should get going," Becky said reluctantly, letting Seth wrap a thick robe around her. "We're supposed to meet Cesaro and Bayley at a café for birthday coffee."

Becky didn't spend the whole day with him; she knew he would want to spend time with friends, even just time alone. They met up off and on during the day, though, almost like a scavenger hunt as she gave him random little presents: a custom bracelet supporting one of his favourite charities, a rare bootleg by his favourite band, a French press for his coffee. There were kisses too, long and hungry ones, but nothing more out in public. While he had dinner with friends, she busied herself setting up the night to come.

As she prepared, she chatted with Charlotte via headset. Becky claimed it was so that she could have her hands free to work, but it was mostly because she didn't want to accidentally switch to video mode and have Charlotte see what she was up to. That didn't stop her from asking, though. "So what's the traditional sex gift for a first birthday together?" she teased. "Pegging? Bondage?"

Becky hummed an innocent little tune as she hid little clues around the hotel suite. "Why? Planning for Andrade's birthday already? I didn't think his birthday was until November."

"Deflection!" But Charlotte just laughed and didn't push. "Really, though, Becks, it's good to hear you so happy. You're worrying way too much about things. I know that's good, in a way, because it means he matters to you, but don't go overboard."

"Don't go overboard. Okay. Says the woman who's already taken her boyfriend on how many vacations now?" Becky was perhaps the slightest bit jealous, but only because most of her quality time with Seth had been spent in hotel rooms, on the road; it would be nice to go somewhere and be able to explore for more than a few hours. She just had to keep reminding herself that a full schedule was what she signed up for.

Charlotte seemed to sense the root of Becky's frustration, because she said, "You'll get some time together, Becks. You just need to realize it might come at the expense of one of your titles. And I'm not trying to be a downer! It's just that when you're champion, you're expected to show up."

"Unless you're Brock Lesnar," Becky scoffed. She immediately cursed herself. She didn't even want to think about that name today.

"Well, obviously. And you're great in interviews and appearances, so they'll want to book you for those too. On the bright side," Charlotte added, "Seth might be able to come to some of those events with you, so you can spend time together that way."

"I don't think he wants to just be a footnote as 'the boyfriend'." Realizing how that might sound, Becky quickly added, "No more than I want to be 'the girlfriend'," you know? We've both fought too hard to be plus-ones."

"But there's a difference between being a plus-one and being supportive, Becks. You know that." Charlotte paused for a moment. Some of the things said during their monumental feud had been steeped in some uncomfortable truths, and they still hadn't discussed the depths of all those sentiments. "You are a force in your own right. No one worth anything doubts that now."

Becky wasn't so sure. She knew she wasn't the best athlete in the women's division, not by far, but no one had a bigger heart. Heart could only account for so much, though. "I appreciate the sentiment, Char, but we both know that's not completely true. But back to happier talk, what _is_ the traditional sex gift for a first birthday celebrated together? I didn't even know that was a thing. Leave it to America."

Charlotte laughed. "I don't think it's a thing. I was just being totally nosy. I know the sex must be good, because you never complain, so I guess that's the important part."

"One of them." Becky opened her phone gallery and looked at the Money in the Bank picture again. She could imagine the criticism: she wasn't even looking at him; she seemed bored; why wasn't she sitting closer to him? But all she saw was his thumb on her knuckles, keeping her steady; the deep and abiding love in his eyes that always made her shiver. She hoped she never lost that feeling. "And I hope it's not bondage," she added with a wicked chuckle that made Charlotte burst into laughter, "because if it is, I let him have his birthday present way too early this year."


	12. High on the List

Fake or not, scripted or not, violence still looked like violence, and Becky knew all too well that for all that wrestling was pre-planned, things could still go very, very wrong. Nia's punch came to mind, but when scenarios involved weapons, anything could happen. Tables might not break the way you thought they would, leading to someone being impaled. A simple slip could make a carefully choreographed blow from a kendo stick or sledgehammer hit its target harder than intended. A steel chair could be faulty and break in a way that cut its victim.

That last one was her current worry as she sat backstage—more correctly, forced herself to stay backstage—as Seth was getting pummeled by Brock Lesnar. Some her fellow wrestlers murmured quiet words of reassurance as she stayed focused on the television, nails digging into her palms so hard she almost drew blood. Eventually, though, everyone gave her a wide berth. Chairs opened up around hers like an exclusion zone, and only Natalya was brave enough to sit within reach. "I know it's hard to watch," Natalya said gently. "And I know that knowing it's all planned doesn't really help when you're seeing it. I've seen my dad go through it, my uncles, my boyfriend. . . ." Then she shook her head. "I know it sucks. I wish I could tell you it gets easier. For me, it never really did. Of course, my guy isn't wrestling anymore, but . . . I just wanted to let you know that if you want to talk about this kind of stuff with someone, I won't judge. I've been there." Natalya gave her a warm smile and stood. "You know how to find me if you need me."

"I do. Thanks, Nattie." Becky took a deep breath. Management had told her the next part was largely up to her. Seth would be taken from the arena in ambulance at the end of the beating. If Becky wanted to accompany him, she could. To her, the question was whether she should. Now that their relationship was public knowledge, it would look odd if she didn't go; if she did go, though, one of them would be reduced to 'the partner', which wasn't right either. "Before you go," she said quickly, gesturing up at the screen. The beating was mercifully almost over, so her cue was coming up; the backstage crew was going to text her with the timing. "Would you go in the ambulance?"

Natalya frowned a bit. "I've done that ride for real. It's not fun. For the cameras?" She shrugged. "It can be hard to navigate, Becky. I won't lie. If one partner's a champion and the other's not or if one's off injured. . . it can create a strain on the relationship. It's natural." Natalya ran a hand through her hair and shrugged. "Yeah, yeah, I would probably go. It's the business, it's the perception. I grew up in it and around it, so I guess some of it just doesn't bother me anymore, even though I know it should. If that makes sense."

Becky nodded. "It does." Then she stood and followed Natalya out of the seating area, her phone buzzing as they reached Catering. "There's my cue," she said with a wry smile as she read the brief message, little more than a time frame and a location. "Thanks, Nattie. I mean it."

Natalya gave her a quick hug and a pat on the cheek. "I know this will probably sound hollow, but just remember that ultimately it doesn't matter what the fans think. If you love him and he loves you, that's what matters. Then Creative will just have to deal with it if it doesn't go over well in the ring. You can only do so much. Don't let anyone else affect how you see him."

"I won't." Becky gave her friend a quick wave as she jogged past backstage crews to the area mentioned in the text. Some of the crew members there looked vaguely intimidated by her and she wondered if the Money in the Bank photographer had said anything to them. She hadn't been reprimanded by the bosses yet, so she was hopeful. "So what's the plan?" she asked, tucking her phone in her pocket. She already had the rest of her stuff packed up and sent ahead to the hotel, as did Seth.

It took a moment for anyone to answer her, mostly because they were all busy fine-tuning the small details that made bits like this look even halfway real. "The usual spiel," a roadie finally said. "Load him in the back, 'going to the nearest medical facility', so on and so on. No further blindsides or attacks," he added quickly.

Becky let out a quick sigh. "Good. Thanks." She stepped away from the others, waiting off by the side, rubbing her hands against the side of her legs until someone gave her a pointed look. "How long does it take to get someone on a stretcher?" she muttered. She knew they liked to make a big show of strapping the person in place and securing the neck, trying to reinforce to the audience how deeply serious the situation was, but time seemed to be crawling.

Then a flurry of activity erupted. "Places!" someone called. Another person came over to her and started listing off instructions: approach from this direction, stand on that side of the gurney so she didn't block the best camera angle, pretend like the cameras weren't there. She had been trying to do the last one for a while now, at least, and she was getting better at it.

_Think of it like a scene in a movie_ , she told herself as she measured her pace and purposefully didn't look at the cameras. But it was a tale of two Beckys: the professional one was thinking of the lines to say and the moves to make, while the everyday Becky just saw the man she loved on a gurney and wanted to run over and demand answers. Everyday Becky would have to keep her mouth shut, at least until the ambulance doors were shut and they had left the arena.

Once she was beside the gurney, Becky grabbed onto the side but kept herself from touching Seth. He was playing his part too and she didn't want to distract him. When she looked down at him, though, she could see the familiar warmth in his eyes, even past the weariness. Even when executed to perfection, wrestling still hurt, and Brock Lesnar wasn't always the most diligent opponent. Making sure her face was turned from the cameras, she smiled down at him. The corner of his mouth twitched in reply.

She stood back as he was loaded, climbing up into the back only when she was given the signal. Then came the parts that she had only ever seen on TV: the doors being shut, the rap on the side of the ambulance to signal the driver, the lights and the infuriatingly slow departure. "All clear," someone called from the front. Becky looked up to someone she vaguely recognized from the back; she thought he coordinated any segments that involved public involvement.

"Thanks." She wasn't sure if she was supposed to stand in the ambulance while it was moving, but she did anyway, moving over to Seth's side and putting a hand on his chest. "Hey. I should have smuggled you a shirt," she quipped.

Seth's gaze was unabashedly warmer now that he didn't have to worry about the cameras, but Becky could still see some pain there too. "And deprive you of the view? What kind of monster do you think I am?"

Becky huffed out a long breath of frustration. "One who deserves to be fighting guys like Finn or Joe or Cesaro, not some part-time tourist." She patted his chest and stepped back. "Sorry. You don't need me bitching right now."

"Come here." Seth was still strapped in—for posterity or actual safety, Becky wasn't sure—but he beckoned her over with his hand. "You know I hate this as much as you do. But pretty soon Lesnar's contracted days will be used up and then we'll be back to normal: champions who actually show up. That's the goal, remember? This is just a road bump."

"It's a bump, all right." Becky went back to his side, smoothing hair out of his face and making him as comfortable as she could. "So how does this all work? I've never had the show version. I can't even really remember what happened after the Nia punch." She bit her lip hard and cursed herself. Seth still didn't agree with how that had been handled and it was one of the few things they couldn't discuss without getting heated.

Seth must have really been sore, because he didn't ignite the old argument. "Just standard stuff. Scans to make sure nothing's broken, check for a concussion, yada yada." He reached up and squeezed her hand. "It's fine. I'll be fine. Nothing a nice soak in our hot tub won't fix."

Becky bit back the first thing that came to mind, very aware of the other people in the ambulance. "Hurry up and get out of doctor jail then," she replied, putting her wickedness into her smile rather than her words, "so we have some time left tonight to enjoy it."

When they reached the medical facility, Seth was whisked away for scans and Becky was directed to a private waiting area. There were no signs saying she couldn't use her cell phone so she took hers out and started catching up on the RAW reactions. She had no desire to do a RAW rewatch tonight, and she doubted Seth would be in the mood either. There was the usual outcry of frustration at Brock Lesnar being able to get away with seemingly anything, and she didn't disagree. Then there was a swell of support for Seth, ranging from get-well wishes to people hoping he decimated Brock Lesnar next week.

When it came to reactions about her, though, she was glad she wasn't checking when Seth was there. At least this way she didn't have to guard her reactions. Some weren't bad, like 'The Man going to check on her man'; uninspired, maybe, but at least not insulting. Some even made her laugh. _Becky looks like she's going to straight up murder Brock_ was her favourite. But then there was a cascade of negativity. Some comments were mild enough to bear, though that didn't stop her from dissecting them. _She looks bored, not upset_ : the camera barely got a shot of her side profile, let alone her whole face, so how could they tell? _She's not even checking to see if he's okay!_ Well, she wasn't allowed to, not that she could say that. It was a drama in which everyone had a part, and going off script wasn't usually rewarded. _They don't actually allow passengers in the back of the ambulance. My sister-in-law is an EMT and. . . ._ Becky automatically tuned out the ones that were more an excuse to talk about themselves than discuss the actual action.

After scrolling through a few more comments, Becky logged out of Twitter and focused on personal text messages instead. The first went to Natalya, thanking her for the talk and asking if she would have time to hang out next week. Then she texted Charlotte, Bayley, and Sasha out of habit. She was answering a message about an interview she was scheduled for later in the week when a shadow passed over her phone. "On the Twitter machine again?"

Becky looked up to see Seth standing in front of her, ribs taped up but otherwise looking not too bad. "I'm done with Twitter for the night," she vowed. She didn't want any more of that toxic shit fogging her thoughts. "How are you?" She hugged him as gently as she could, mindful of his ribs, but she compensated with a deep kiss that had Seth digging his fingers into her back.

"I'm cleared for the hot tub," he said, holding her close, "and 'light to normal activity', so you might have to take it easy on me tonight."

"Excuses, excuses," Becky joked, tucking her phone in her pocket. People on Twitter could say whatever they liked; as long as Seth knew how she felt, that was all that mattered.

*

The Saudi Arabia shows always left Seth conflicted. His biggest goal, aside from being the best champion he could be, was to entertain the audience. He remembered how much fun he used to have at wrestling events when he was younger and he loved bringing those moments to the next generations. The Saudi audiences were no different. The government and the policies were another story. The McMahons even brought Alexa and Natalya over in hopes that they would be allowed to wrestle, but it wasn't looking likely.

It felt weird to be preparing for such a big event without having Becky to talk to. Even when they were just friends, they would bounce ideas off each other, eager for the other person's opinion. But she was back in the States with a schedule of her own, including an interview.

An interview that was already garnering a fair amount of buzz not because of what was going to be asked, but because of what was now off the table. When WWE first promoted the interview, they mentioned the usual suspects: Becky's meteoric rise, life as The Man, and her upcoming challengers. They also mentioned their relationship, and Seth would have been the first one to tell them what a mistake that was. Becky loved him; he had no doubt about that. But she in no way considered him or their relationship an _accomplishment_.

So of course, being Becky, she had fired her salvo on Twitter, stating that talking about her love life wasn't high on her list. And just like that, the original announcement was down and all further references to the interview contained no mention of Seth or their relationship. While they were visiting the hospital in Jeddah, Natalya pulled Seth to the side when it was safe to do so. "You saw Becky's tweet, I'm guessing?"

Seth nodded. He wasn't offended; he expected nothing less and, honestly, in her position, he would have done the same. They might have been a couple, but they were still two very different people. "She made quick work of that notion, didn't she?" Even he could hear the pride in his voice, and he was glad to see a similar expression on Natalya's face.

"She did." She paused for a beat before adding, "You know she doesn't mean anything against you by it, right? And no, she didn't ask me to talk to you, I swear. Renee either." 

"Renee hasn't mentioned anything to me." Seth imagined it was only because it was hard for the women's contingent to get around without an escort, though.

Natalya seemed relieved. "Okay. Well, like I said, Becky never said anything to me, _but_ I can imagine some of the worries she might be having, so when you have a chance, it might not be a bad idea to put her at ease." It was a simple enough suggestion, but judging from her expression, she expected to have to defend it.

Seth just nodded. "We tried to arrange a time for a video chat that works for both of us," he said. "I'll make sure she knows." Then he smiled, stopping himself before giving Natalya a hug. "Thanks for thinking of her, Nattie."

"I got her back." Then Natalya raised a warning finger. "You just remember that."

"Noted." Seth held his hands up in mock surrender as they were led to another ward in the hospital. To cut down on the time zone differences, Becky was staying at his place in Davenport while he was gone, which left him with a bittersweet feeling. Obviously he would rather be there with her, but there was also something alluring about the idea of her in his space without him there. He wondered if she would move through it in the same way, sit on the couch differently, sleep on the other side of the bed.

Jeddah was eight hours ahead, so it was afternoon in Davenport when he called; they both agreed it was easier for him to do the calling since his schedule was more involved than hers was. When she didn't answer right away, his first thought was that he had got the timing wrong, but he knew he had double-checked it. _Maybe she just went out for coffee,_ he thought next. Becky wasn't really the type to linger at home and do nothing. 

But then his screen changed and he saw half of Becky's face as she was swearing. "Sorry. Forgot the fucking wi-fi password." Then she slotted her tablet onto its stand and curled up on his couch, barefoot and wearing a pair of what looked like his workout shorts. "Yeah," she said with a laugh when she noticed him staring, "I spilled coffee on my shorts on my way back because I was rushing and not paying attention, so I raided your closet. Don't worry: I left the skeleton exactly where it was."

"Have at it. _Mi casa, su casa_." They had both started leaving clothes and other items at each other's homes, but they had never really talked about it in a serious way. He knew Becky had stuff to wear, both that she had left in Davenport and what she would have brought with her, but if she wanted to wear his stuff, he wouldn't complain: at the very least, it was a nice visual. "So how's everything?"

Becky gestured around her. "I haven't burned the place down yet, as you can see," she replied, "so it's all good. They gave me some potential questions they're going to ask me tomorrow, so I was just prepping a bit, thinking back to key matches, that sort of thing." As soon as she mentioned the questions, her gaze dropped slightly.

"Becks. Hey." He instinctively reached out to touch her face, to tilt her back towards him, and his tablet beeped when his fingers brushed the option bar. "Shit. Sorry. That was me. But Becky, you know I'm not upset about your tweet, right?"

Becky's mouth twitched into a half-grin. "You mean you're finally cool with that birthday pun from a few years ago?"

Seth rolled his eyes, settling back in his chair. The suite he was given was gorgeous and comfortable, but without Becky, it felt lacking. "Nice try, Irish. I'm talking about your rebuttal about the interview. About not talking about your love life."

"Oh. I wasn't sure if you had seen that yet. You know, with the time difference and all. . . ." Becky fidgeted with her list of interview questions before setting them aside. "I didn't—I don't mean anything bad by it. You know that, right?"

"I just said I wasn't upset, Becks, and I meant it. You were absolutely in the right. If we're doing promos, that's one thing," Seth added. "Then we've already agreed to it and we have input. But otherwise we deserve our little sliver of space, and we're gonna have to fight to keep it."

"I know." Becky repositioned her legs, curling up against the arm of the couch. "Do you ever regret agreeing to let them use our relationship?"

Seth gave a small nod. "Maybe. A little bit. Mostly because I'm selfish and I don't want to share you," he added with a laugh, basking in the smile it brought to her face. "But then I think of those great pictures of us we wouldn't have if we weren't spotlighted. All the moments we've had in the ring or backstage. All the moments we could have in the future. Now that I've had that, I don't know if I would want to give that up."

Becky considered that for a long moment, reaching for something off-screen. She returned with a coffee mug in hand, resting it against her knee. "That's true. I hadn't thought about it that way." She was using the kissing picture on her phone too, which could make telling their phones apart difficult if they were in a rush.

"Listen, Becks, they don't own us. Yeah, they pay for our contracts, but _us_? Us as a couple? That’s just you and me. We'll only do what we're comfortable with," Seth insisted, "and when we're not happy with what they're doing, we'll say so."

She didn't look wholly convinced, though. "You really think Vince would just drop it? You know what he's like when he latches on to a shiny new toy: Brock, Ronda, Lacey. . . ."

"Don't underestimate Hunter and Steph. They've got more sway than Vince lets on." Seth paused for a drink of water, glancing out the window to admire the night sky. "And they're both in your corner. Hold on. Walk with me." He grabbed his tablet and walked over to the window. "Can you see anything," he asked, "or is it all just glare?"

"A bit of glare." Becky's voice was muted and he realized he had a hand over the speaker, so he readjusted his grip. "But not much. The lights are beautiful."

It wasn't as good as her being there or them being together, but Seth went from window to window, explaining the landmarks as best as he could remember. Once he had covered all the windows his suite had to offer, he returned to his chair. "I'll see if I can do a video tour for you tomorrow. I know it's not the real thing, but maybe you'll get to wrestle here next year too. People keep saying things are changing, so. . . ."

"Didn’t the McMahons say that last year too?" For a moment, Becky's voice went hard, but she shook off the bitterness quickly. "So how are my girls doing over there? Any word on whether Alexa and Nattie are actually going to get to fight?"

"It's not looking like it, no, but they've been well received at appearances, from what I can tell." Seth knew it wasn't much consolation. WWE could have an all-women's pay-per-view and have women in the main event at Wrestlemania, but it only meant so much if they kept doing events where the women couldn't participate at all. "Nattie says hi, by the way."

Becky nestled into the corner of the couch, stretching out her legs. "I'd love another feud with Nattie. She's so underrated." Rolling the coffee cup between her palms, she paused to think. "Who would you choose for a feud?"

"I'd say Samoa Joe," Seth began, "but he might try to steal my girl, and I can't have that. Finn, maybe. We work well together. Shinsuke could be fun. There's so many possibilities."

"We can always bait people on Twitter," Becky suggested with a laugh. Before she could slosh her coffee onto the couch, she set the cup down on the table. "If it gets enough momentum, maybe Hunter would do something."

Seth shook his head. "You and your twitter. You must have shares in it or something."

"But just imagine the possibilities!" Becky straightened up a bit, growing more animated by the second, and Seth was happy to see her not dwelling on the negatives. "Like if they had Twitter back in the 80s? Randy Savage, man! He would have been amazing. And the shitstorms the managers like Heenan could have stirred up?"

Seth just sat back and listened to her speculate, adding opinions and insights every so often, sometimes just to antagonize her. It was such a pleasure—and a relief—to have someone who cared so deeply about so many of the same things he did. Every day—even the days like today, when they weren't together in person—Becky brought something new into his world: a joke, a song, an idea. He hoped he inspired her in kind. If they could stay strong, stay focused, then they would be able to balance all of it: the promos, the wrestling, their relationship. She kept him from judging himself too harshly; he stopped her from dwelling on the negatives. Together, they could be unstoppable—but _together_ was the most important part of the equation.


	13. Killer in Heels

A six-hour signing at a convention. An appearance at the MTV Movie and TV Awards show. And then, mere hours later, competing at a wrestling event. It was a full schedule, but Becky kept reminding herself that she willingly signed up for it all. Part of being The Man meant being in demand. Truth be told, it wasn't that bad. The signing was long, sure, but full of enthusiastic fans, people who had been supporting her for years; the wrestling match would be the same. The awards show would be new territory for her, and another chance for her to prove herself.

Becky took her awards-show dress off the hanger and spread it out on the hotel bed, as careful as if she were carrying delicate glass. When she sent a picture of the dress to her mother, she had to explain that it was indeed a complete outfit and not just a blazer with a frilly bottom that looked like a tutu. To be honest, she wasn't entirely convinced herself, but she had worked with the stylist before and Charlotte, Bayley, Sasha, and Naomi had all heartily endorsed the dress. 

Seth, of course, was a fan of it too, which was why it was still on the bed. She didn't want to risk having it damaged before the awards show, so she was planning to put it on at the last moment. It was too warm to walk around the hotel room in a heavy robe, though, so she was wearing only the bra and panties that had been specially chosen for the outfit: the bra would likely peek out and be spotted in photos, but she was hoping her underwear would not. Any of the MTV awards shows were a more casual affair than most, but she didn't want to be the next wardrobe malfunction laugh for the internet at large.

"Put the heels on." Seth's tone was strangely flat, as if he weren't getting enough air, and Becky turned to find him watching her from the bathroom doorway, where he had been getting ready. His outfit was simple—a sleek black dress shirt and matching pants—but they would match nicely, and she would never complain about seeing him in all black. The shirt was still unbuttoned all the way down and when Becky's gaze crept down his chest, she noticed that the button on his pants was also undone. The hotel room had suddenly gone from warm to _hot_.

"What?" Becky tried tearing her gaze away from the dark strip of hair beneath his navel, but it took her a good long moment. When she did, the look in his eyes was heady enough to make her breath catch. They had been dating for a few months now and the novelty of how covetous he could be hadn't worn off yet. Maybe it never would, and she wasn't sure that was a bad thing.

Seth prowled a few steps closer. "Put the heels on," he repeated, the husky bass in his voice making Becky shiver.

"Seth." Becky cursed herself for not putting on the robe. She probably would have overheated but when Seth got that look in his eyes, any plans they had tended to fly out the window. "We're supposed to leave in an hour—"

He stopped just in front of her, their bodies barely touching. "Please." The lone word rumbled deep in his chest as he cupped Becky's jaw with one hand and tilted her face up to his. "The heels. Put them on."

An hour was a lot of time, Becky reasoned, and their hotel was close to where the awards show was being held, purposefully chosen so they would be able to make the house show later that day. It wouldn't—well, shouldn't—take her that long to get dressed. And whatever Seth had in mind was likely to calm her nerves, or at least override them. Taking a shaky step back, Becky bent to get her shoebox from the floor, but Seth beat her to it. Kneeling in front of her, he took the right shoe from the box and held it in place, gaze steady on hers. Becky gripped his shoulders lightly to keep her balance as she stepped into right shoe and then the left. "Seth, we can't ruin the bra," she cautioned, letting out a sigh as he started to kiss his way up her leg. "Or the panties. I don't have anything else with me that will work under the dress. . . ."

"We won't," he murmured, mouth pressed to her hip as he eased her panties down to her ankles. When she stepped out of them, careful not to hook them on her heels, he set them safely to the side and continued his ascent. She sighed again as he slid a hand up her back, unhooking her bra and tossing it aside like an afterthought. Now that she was wearing only the heels, Seth stepped back just enough to let his gaze take her all in. "You are so fucking gorgeous."

Becky humoured him and did a little turn, mindful of the heels and their grip in the thick carpet. "Heels make everyone's legs look good," she said as she finished her turn and faced him again.

His eyes gleamed with desire. "Not _that_ good." 

Then he gripped her ass and lifted her, the move so sudden Becky gasped with surprise and clutched at his shoulders. "Wait, wait," she managed, pointing vaguely at the dress on the bed. She had no idea what the skirt was made of, but she doubted it would survive whatever Seth had in mind. "Let me move—"

Before she could try to move the dress, though, Seth detoured, pressing her against the wall instead. One of her shoes fell to the floor unnoticed as he lowered his pants just enough to get his cock out. "Rebecca, please."

The use of her full name got her. They knew each other's legal names, of course, but in some ways it was so much easier to use their ring names, especially in public; her names weren't that different, but he could at least have some separation between Seth and Colby. He said it again— _Please, Rebecca, please_ —and it almost made her climax on the spot. The lack of condom wasn't an issue; they were both clean and she had been on birth control for years. If they missed the awards show, though. . . .

"Fifteen minutes," Becky whispered against his ear. "Make them count." She wanted to touch more of him than just his chest, but that could wait until later. She wasn't even sure she would be able to last five minutes, let alone fifteen.

"Ten," Seth countered, easing into her. "Or you won't be walking right on that red carpet."

She should have known better. Seth didn't even need the whole ten minutes, but damn did he make good use of the extras. Her other shoe had fallen off at some point and he had kicked it to the side, barely breaking his rhythm. When he finally set her down and let her go, Becky felt like her skeleton had dissolved. She was about to tell him to save some energy for later when she noticed his shirt, or rather what was left of it. Somewhere between her first orgasm and her second, she thought she had heard a ripping sound but couldn't bring herself to care. Now she saw the large tear down his right sleeve, far too big to mend on short notice and too awkwardly placed to look like a purposeful fashion statement. "Shit. You can't wear that."

Seth peeled off the shirt and examined it, his low laugh making Becky wish she had pushed harder for the fifteen minute session. "Guess not," he agreed, showing her an even bigger hole in the back. "I'll find something else to wear."

Then Becky noticed something else. "Better look for different pants too," she said, pointing at the white splatter near the fly. They might be able to spot wash it, but she doubted they would have enough time. She definitely needed a shower and Seth would too—separately—and California traffic was never easy to predict.

"Shit." Seth shook his head. "Go clean up. I'll figure something out." He kicked his pants off and Becky lingered for a moment to enjoy the view before heading to the bathroom, nearly tripping over one of her troublesome shoes.

It was one of the fastest showers of her life, and Becky was careful not to mess her already-styled ponytail; thankfully her make-up would be done on site. As she stepped out, she decided to be cautious and swaddle herself in one of the hotel's thick robes. As much as she would have loved to continue what Seth had started, they would need to get going soon. When she returned to the bedroom, Seth was rummaging through his bag and held up a black t-shirt and some faded skinny jeans; his suit jacket was still hanging on the back of the suite door, unscathed. "Good enough?"

"The shirt's fine," Becky said hesitantly, grabbing her panties and stepping into them as she shoved Seth toward the bathroom, "but the jeans. . . ." She thought he looked gorgeous in everything, nothing, and anything in between, and it _was_ a more casual awards show—but it was still a public event where they were representing WWE.

"Babe, with you wearing that dress, no one's going to be looking at me anyways." Seth ducked down to give her a quick kiss, hand lingering on the wide collar of the bathrobe. When the light kiss threatened to deepen, he pulled himself back with a ragged growl.

Becky just laughed as she untangled her bra straps. "I will be," she countered with a wink. She waited until Seth was in the bathroom and she could hear the shower running to take off the robe, though. Temptation called, but so did duty.

*

The camera loved Becky. Seth doubted that throughout the whole thing—the red carpet walk, the interviews, the posed promo shots—anyone had managed to get a bad shot of her. But he could also see past Becky's swagger and her smile and he knew when she needed a break. Since they had the house show that night and WWE wasn't actually winning the award, they didn't sit through the ceremony, but she still looked done. As soon as they were both in the back of the chauffeured car, ready to be whisked back to the hotel, he patted his lap. "Come on."

Becky raised an eyebrow. "Tempting, but I'm not into having an audience." She gestured at the privacy shield. The driver might not be able to see them unless they pressed the button to lower the glass, but it probably wasn't completely soundproofed.

Seth laughed. "The drive is too short for that. Put your legs up." He patted his lap again and this time Becky obliged, stretching her legs across his thighs. Once she was settled, he took her shoes off for her and dropped them to the floor. "Better?"

"Yeah." Then she snuggled closer, resting her head against his shoulder. "First you want me to put the shoes on. Now you're taking them off. So indecisive."

"Context, Irish. It's all about context." Seth kissed the top of her head and wrapped an arm around her. "You did great today," he murmured against her temple. Second by second, he could feel her relaxing against him, and to him that was the best compliment of all. Becky had gone on record before saying she had reservations about dating other wrestlers, but here they were; to know that she felt utterly at ease with him was better yet.

"Didn't win, though." Becky's voice was slow, almost a drawl, and Seth almost wondered if she was falling asleep until she slid her hand just under his shirt and let it rest on his abdomen. 

"You can't win everything." Seth tugged lightly on the end of her ponytail. How it had survived their quickie and her even quicker shower, he wasn't sure, but it still looked amazing. "And the brass knows that this was out of your hands. Hell, how often has WWE even been in the running for something like this?" With his other hand, he squeezed her toes, making her giggle. That laughter quickly deepened into a contented sigh as he started stroking her leg, though he made sure he went no higher than her knee; the skirt was short enough that it wouldn't take much effort at all to get them both in trouble.

"Thank you," Becky murmured, moving closer still until her eyelashes fluttered against his neck with every slow blink. "For coming to this with me. I know you'll get a bunch of shit for being 'the boyfriend' and whatever, but I'm so glad you were here with me."

Seth turned just enough to kiss her, keeping it light and gentle. "No place I'd rather be." They wouldn't have much time to change at the hotel before they would have to be making their way to the show in Anaheim; Becky had even joked that it might be simpler just to put her gear on at the hotel to same time at the arena. After the show, though, he would show her just how much he loved every second he got to spend with her. "Are you going to keep the ponytail in?" he asked. Until he had started dating Becky, he hadn't ever really considered how much preparation the female wrestlers went through in the make-up chairs.

"Hadn't really thought about it. All the fuss," she said, gesturing to her hair and make-up, "is sort of beyond me, you know? I mean, I definitely appreciate the art of it, but left to my own devices, it wouldn't get done." Then Becky tilted her head back enough to look up at him. "Could make it easier for wrestling, though, and it would work with my new gear."

"Well, if I get a vote," Seth replied, "it would be to keep it up." He ran a hand down the length of her ponytail, then wrapped it around his knuckles like tape. "It could be useful later."

Becky's eyes cut quickly to the privacy shield before reaching up and grabbing a handful of his hair, pulling herself into his lap as she kissed him. "You seem to do just fine when it's down."

"Anything that lets me see more of this incredible face," Seth said, smoothing a hand along her jaw, "I like." It was strange, not being able to run his fingers through her hair, but the ponytail had its own possibilities he wanted to explore. As he kissed her again, he trailed his hand from her jaw down her open neckline, fingers lingering on the exposed part of her bra before going lower. "Do these buttons even work?" he murmured. He had seen Becky in the dress more than once, but hadn't paid much attention to how she put it on.

Becky gently pushed his hands away. "Not telling. Not showing, either." She kissed him again as she slid off his lap, grabbing her shoes and dropped them on her side of the car. "How are we doing for time?"

Seth glanced down at his watch and did some quick math. "If I stay on my best behaviour, you'll have enough time to change at the hotel so you can wear something more casual for the drive."

" _Less distracting,_ you mean," Becky interjected with a smile. She tried to tug her skirt down, but there wasn't much there to pull.

"Well, if you want me to keep my eyes on the road. . . ." As promised, Seth stayed on his best behaviour and kept his hands to himself—mostly—once they reached the hotel, letting Becky get changed in peace. When she fell asleep in the rental car, he let her nap as long as he could. Though she always claimed she was fine, he worried that she was overextending herself. He understood the urge: you never knew when you might get the spotlight or the opportunities again—especially for women in wrestling—so you had to utilize your chances when you got them. But he also didn't want her to destroy herself and everything she had worked so hard to build because she was stretched too thin.

At the arena, Seth waited until Becky was talking to Hunter about the MTV red carpet to seek out Naomi. "Hey, Naomi, you got a minute?" he asked, fidgeting with his wrist cuffs.

"Yeah." Naomi grabbed her stage coat, currently unlit, and gestured to a quiet hallway. "I've been meaning to talk to you about Becky."

Seth felt his shoulders twitch. "Please don't give me the _Don't fuck this up_ speech. I swear I've gotten that from about a dozen people since we started dating. I have zero intentions of hurting her. We we've been friends for years and even if we don't work out as a couple, I don't want to lose her as a fri—"

"Chill, Rollins! Chill!" Naomi patted his shoulder and motioned for him to sit on one of the folding chairs WWE seemed to conveniently stash everywhere. "I was going to tell you to not let _her_ fuck this up, but if you're so fixated on not ruining things, maybe there's something you need to share?"

"No!" Seth smoothed his hair back out of frustration, but Naomi's comment distracted him. "What do you mean? What would Becky do that would fu—?" 

" _Rollins!_ " Naomi silenced him with a steady glare. "Stop being a fool and listen to me!" After Seth sat back and relaxed a bit, she continued. "I'm not saying Becky's going to try sabotaging your relationship. I'm saying that Becky, for all her boasting, can still feel like she doesn't belong. Yes, she got to the top, but she has to keep fighting to stay there. Someone like Charlotte? You know I love the Queen too, but Charlotte could take six months off, decide to come back on a Monday, and have a title shot in a week. Becky doesn't have that. I don't have that. Sasha, Asuka, even Bayley: we don't have that, because for all the talk of diversity, we don't fit Vince's mold. It's slowly changing with Steph and Hunter around, but will it change fast enough to make a difference for our generation?" Naomi gave a bittersweet shrug. "Probably not. Hell, look at Beth Phoenix: first 80s baby in the Hall of Fame, well respected legacy, Hall of Fame husband, kids, still has a job within the company—and she still fits a lot of Vince's mold. Then you look at Lita or Jacqueline or Jazz? Chyna? It's different for the women. You need to remember that. It's not enough for us to be good wrestlers; we have to have a certain look."

Seth let out a long breath. "I get that. I do. I mean, I know I'll never face that," he said quickly, hoping to avoid another glare from Naomi, "but I understand what you're saying. What I don't get is what that would have to do with Becky fucking up our relationship."

"Because she's always going to have to fight to be on top, and some guys are cool with that—for a while." Naomi's eyes narrowed. "Then when their girl is getting the magazine covers and the interviews and all that, they aren't so cool with it any more. Some guys can't handle a woman with ambition, a woman who very well could be better than them. And so some women will end up . . . dialling themselves down. Rather than going for great, they settle for good so they can have the husband and the family and all that. I don't want to see Becky limit herself because she feels she has to downplay herself to keep you, because it will just make her miserable."

"That's not what I want at all!" Seth growled in frustration. "Naomi, I _love_ that's she's strong and ambitious. I love that she can hold her own against me in the gym. I love that we have things in common but that she's still totally her own person. She could get all the magazine covers in the world and the only thing I'd ask her to do would be to sign my copies." Planting his elbows on his knees, he dropped his head into his hands. "Does . . . does she think I'm like that?"

Naomi shook her head. "She's never complained to me." Then she smirked. "Well, maybe when I tell her I'm still waiting on those redheaded babies with a blond streak," she joked. "Honestly, I've never seen her so happy, and I've known her for years. That happiness, though? I know it's a combination of her career _and_ being with you. And she deserves both."

Seth nodded slowly, trying to gather his thoughts. "Can you think of anything I can do to reassure her? I know she feels like she has to fight constantly, but I'm worried about her overextending herself. She's still eating and working out, so I'm not worried about her health so much as. . . ." For lack of a catch-all term, Seth tapped his head. "I don't want her to lose sight of what made her so successful, what makes the fans love her. . . ."

Naomi nudged him with her elbow. "What makes _you_ love her. . . ?" When Seth didn't answer within a second, she laughed and added. "Because it better not just be for sex or I will destroy you for her."

"Haven't we just circled back to the 'Don't fuck this up' speech that I specifically asked you not to give me?" Seth raised an eyebrow when Naomi looked away innocently. "It's okay, Naomi. I'm glad she's got friends looking out for her."

"Always." Standing, Naomi patted his shoulder. "You two should come hang out with me and Jimmy next time we're on a Florida leg. Jimmy knows all the best beach spots."

Seth's laugh was more relaxed this time. "Only if baby talk is off the table."

"Sure." For a moment, Naomi's smile stayed friendly and Seth thought he got away easy. Then she shot him a wink, amplified by her fake lashes. "We can talk rings instead, then. Jimmy has really good taste in rings, and the place he got mine isn't far from where we live—"

Seth stood quickly. He should have known a conversation with Naomi would leave him quickly out of his depth. "We've been dating for around four months, Naomi. Not even half a year!"

Naomi shrugged as she waved at an intern who had called to her. "Yeah, so? You've known each other for how many years? Six? Something like that. You've been friends almost the whole time, and you've both said you probably would have dated earlier if you'd both been single at the time. So the ring is really just a formality. A pretty, shiny, very important formality. . . ." She gave Seth another wide smile as she left. "Just saying, you know!"

"Yeah, sure. _Just saying_." As he headed to the men's locker room, though, Seth had to wonder if Naomi was simply the first to bring up an engagement to his face.


	14. Stomping Grounds 2019

Wrestling was a combination of so many things, and Seth figured that was why some wrestlers never really got over. They could be insanely athletic, but if they had no personality, no charisma, then their characters floundered and ended up becoming random pieces of trivia when you watched old pay-per-view DVDs. _Who was that guy again? I don’t remember him at all._ But a personality could only get you so far too. You needed to have a combination of both, the athleticism and the artistry, to get ahead, to say nothing of luck and support. Of course, if the McMahons decided to push you, your combination of attributes didn't matter much, but Seth had always prided himself on doing his best.

If you knew what to look for, there was a beautiful artistry in what they did, achieving violent ends with remarkable restraint. He had been on a rampage for the entirety of RAW, seeking out anyone who might consider being Baron Corbin's special referee and then bashing them with a chair. It was hard to make a chair shot look artful, but as the night progressed, it felt like he was writing goddamn poetry. Eric Young and the rest probably didn't feel the same way, of course, but it was nice to let loose. It had been a while since he had been a full heel; it was far more fun to operate in the nebulous grey zone.

As he patrolled backstage, Becky was there right on cue, eyes shining with pride. She loved seeing him do what he did best, and the look she gave him—slyly just out of the camera's angle—was a clear invitation for later. Glancing down at the chair in his hands, she gave him a cocky smirk. "Do what you need to do," she said with a nod. As she continued on her way, Seth could feel her gaze on his back all the while, steady and hot.

Continuing on, Seth's thoughts kept returning to the idea of a heel turn. There were so many ways to spin it, from him being desperate to keep his belt to being the arrogant asshole who demanded praise for freeing the belt from Brock Lesnar. If Becky went heel too, they would have to be careful to not be too much like Miz and Maryse, but Seth didn't think that would be hard. Besides, judging from some of the pictures from the MTV Awards, they could pull off the villain couple look quite well.

On the way back to their hotel, Seth showed the pictures to Becky. "Feel like going heel?" he asked. "If they're going to complain about us being together, might as well give them something to bitch about, right?"

Becky reached over and flipped back and forth between the pictures. "Then they'll just put us in a feud against Miz and Maryse once she's cleared," Becky pointed out. "We don't want them tying our storylines together forever. Then we'll never get anything done . . . unless they make Mixed Tag belts." She stopped on the gif of them cackling, her not-so-secret favourite.

"I'll have to fight Sami for the honour of being your partner, then." Laughing, Seth kissed her head and moved his phone out of her reach. He didn't keep a lot of personal photos on his phone anymore for security reasons, but he had a few candids of Becky. "Or do you only do Mixed Tag with fellow gingers?"

Raising an eyebrow, Becky pointed at her very brown roots. "I mean, if you want to go ginger, be my guest, but then you'll have to do something with the beard or it will look really awkward." When the hotel came into view, she straightened up and sighed. "I just want to fight someone _new_. After Lacey, they'll probably choose Alexa, and then Heyman will probably get Ronda to come back and it's going to be more of the same. All that work leading up to Wrestlemania feels like it was for nothing."

"Hey. Don't think like that." As the car started to slow, Seth gave her hand a quick squeeze. "Women main-evented Wrestlemania for the first time ever. For months, people were talking about your match. Don't underestimate that."

"I know." At least Becky waited until the car stopped to open the door; last time she hadn't and she ended up scraping the door on the curb. "The work never stops, right?"

"Right." Seth followed her out of the car, tucking his phone in his pocket as they waited for their bags. He hated to see Becky so full of doubt: he remembered the days when she was on the chopping block in NXT, and while she had clearly come a long way since then, he knew the kind of scars that could leave on your psyche. "Just out of curiosity," he asked as they headed inside, "that dress you wore to the MTV Awards . . . was that yours or just borrowed for the event?"

Becky turned and started to give him a curious look before she hit the recall button for the elevator. "Just out of curiosity, huh?"

Leaning against the wall while they waited, Seth grinned lazily. "Yeah. Purely theoretical."

"Why?" Becky's smile matched his own. "Theoretically?"

"Well, the only pictures I have of you in it are from the event," he replied, pointing to the elevator as the doors opened. The people getting off did a double-take, as if they recognized them, but luckily the doors closed before anyone could ask for a picture or an autograph. 

Becky settled in the corner and laughed. "Well, you could have got one when we were in the hotel room, but _someone_ got distracted and left us without a lot of time to get ready."

"The lighting wasn't right," Seth countered, spinning his bag in circles, "And your bra was in the way."

"My bra? Right." Becky rolled her eyes. "You could maybe see this much," she said, holding her thumb and index finger just barely apart, "of the gore, and that was all."

Seth's eyebrows dipped. "The gore? What the hell is that?"

"The centre part. Between the cups." Without warning, Becky pulled him towards her, made sure he was blocking her from the elevator camera's view, and pulled up her shirt. "That part," she said, tapping the piece that sat flat against her sternum. 

Before she could pull her shirt back down, though, Seth took advantage of the opportunity and slid his hands around her. "So what are the other parts called?" He pressed close, mindful that the car could stop at any floor.

"As long as you know where the hooks are," Becky replied, going on tiptoe to kiss him, "that's all you need." The beep from the elevator took them both aback until they realized they were finally at their floor. When Seth stepped back, Becky's shirt fell back mostly into place and she smoothed it the rest of the way.

When the doors opened, Seth motioned for Becky to step out first. "But what if I want to buy you some to keep at my place?" he asked. They still weren't living together officially, but at that point it was mostly a formality. Seth knew Becky's coffee selection better than she did, and she had done more to reorganize his record collection in one week than he had in years. 

Becky actually stumbled a bit when he said that, and Seth did his best not to smile. She wasn't quite as comfortable with the demonstrative aspects of a relationship as he was, so sometimes he had to be patient. "Are you serious?" she asked, voice wary. Sometimes they joked around so often it was hard to tell. She fumbled her first attempt at opening the door but got in on the second. When she pushed it open, though, she still stayed rooted to the spot.

Seth nodded, pulling her across the threshold; their bags bumped as they came through, and he left them just inside the door. "Yeah. It would make it easier for you when you're over if you've got some spares." He also might have damaged one or two in his haste to get them off her, but Becky didn't seem to hold a grudge. "You've already got clothes and other stuff there. . . ."

"I know. I just . . . we're hardly ever home—your place or mine—and. . . ." Her flustered state continued as Seth led her to the bedroom of the suite. "I'm a clutter magnet, I swear, and I—"

"And I love you, Becky, clutter and all." Seth drew her close and spun her in a slow circle. Only the main light in the suite was on, fanning across half the bedroom floor, and the shadows from their not-quite-dance created made strange patterns, as if they were some multi-limbed beast. "I like having your clutter in my place." Somehow it made it feel more like home than the simple, expected presence of his own things. A forgotten bra here, an Irish beer in the fridge, Pearl Jam CDs left out on the table: it all reminded him that it _wasn't_ just a storyline, that she was in his life for real, inside the ring and outside of it.

"As long as you aren't sniffing my clothes or something when I'm gone." Becky was aiming for bluster, but her shining eyes gave her away. She might not be as open about craving affection, but he knew she secretly enjoyed little declarations of love. 

Seth set her down but kept his arms around her waist. "I thought you were going to say as long as I wasn't wearing your panties."

Becky shook her head. "Nah, that's fine with me. As long as there's pictures. Proof, you know." She slid her hands under his shirt and up his back. "I mean, if you want pictures of me in the dress, it's only fair that I get some pictures in return. What do they call it in the movies—mutually assured destruction or something?"

As Seth kissed his way along her jaw, his hands found the back of her bra. "Hooks. See, I know the important part."

"If you want an anatomy lesson," Becky whispered by his ear, "it's easier with the shirt off."

"In more ways than one," Seth replied. He stepped back just long enough for Becky to tug her shirt over her head before moving in again, pressing her back against one of the walls still cloaked in darkness. "Straps," he said softly, running his fingers beneath them and sliding them down Becky's shoulders. "I know those too. And cups, of course."

Becky let out a sharp breath with Seth squeezed her breasts. "You can go back to the hooks now. That's enough of a lesson for today."

"Is it?" Seth was happy to oblige, unhooking Becky's bra and tossing it to the floor before lifting her up again.

"Yes, because watching you beat a quarter of that roster with that chair was making me wet, which made watching with the backstage crew very awkward." Both of Becky's hands were at his belt, and Seth quickly agreed that Lingerie 101 could definitely wait for another day.

*

Stomping Grounds sounded like a pay-per-view event practically designed for Seth, given his curb stomp, but with the ever-looming spectre of Brock Lesnar and a potential cash-in, Becky found it harder than usual to focus. Seth might not have been having the most memorable Universal Championship run, but he was doing the best he could with his bookings and he deserved more than to be a footnote to another long, stale Lesnar run.

After winning her match against Lacey, Becky stayed dressed in her ring gear. Creative said she might be needed for a segment later, but they didn't elaborate, which made her wary. There were more and more last-minute tweaks being made at the shows, and most of them weren't paying off. She figured it was something with Seth's match, so she busied herself in between, calling her mom and texting some friends and watching most of the other matches on the card. As soon as Corbin got a microphone in his hand, the answer was obvious.

Lacey was going to be the referee.

Becky started to storm to the gorilla position as soon as it was announced, but Hunter stopped her. "Wait, Lynch. Not yet. She's going to pull some shit—slow counts, a slap, you know the deal—but you'll know your cue," he assured her, leading her back to an area where she was less likely to be caught on camera.

Becky narrowed her eyes. Hunter was usually pretty forthright about his goals and expectations, so his vague explanation didn't sit well with her. "What's going to happen, Hunter?"

But Hunter just shook his head. "We want to keep your reaction authentic. Like I said, you'll know your cue. Go out there, beat her up a bit, and the rest will play out." Then he patted her shoulder and continued on to talk to Ricochet.

If that was meant to put her at ease, it failed miserably, but it did ignite her temper. Hunter had left her by a smaller crew monitor so she could watch the action unfold, and she was clenching her fists so often she thought her knuckles would pop through her skin. Lacey was counting slow whenever Seth tried to pin or conveniently looking away when he had Baron covered, but those were too banal to be the cue Hunter had mentioned. Annoying as hell, but par for WWE's course. Then came the slap and Becky rocked back on her feet, ready to head for the ramp. The tech standing beside her shook his head. "Hunter says that's not it," he told her, pointing to the earpiece he was wearing.

"Sorry," she muttered, forcing her hands flat against her thighs as she paced, keeping her eyes focused on the screen. It was smaller than she was used to; what if she missed something?

Then Lacey delivered the low blow and Becky was off like a shot, Hunter and the earpiece be damned. She nearly bowled over a tech on her way to the gorilla position and then she was heading down the ramp, sliding into the ring and punching any part of Lacey she could hit. Part of her said she should watch out for Baron, but she was laser focused on smacking the sickeningly sweet Southern accent out of Lacey's mouth. Then she tossed Lacey out of the ring and followed; hearing her body thud against the audience barrier almost made Becky smile, but she still had just enough control to remember to look mad, not joyous.

What was happening in the ring? It was a distant thought. Seth could have been beating Baron or vice versa, but she couldn't hear anything above the roar of the crowd and the shouts from the referees trying to peel her away from Lacey. Baron, of course, was trying to get one of the referees in the ring to count a pin, and Becky felt her stomach lurch when he tried End of Days again. When Seth spun out of it, that last little bit of control was almost lost again; her heart surged like it did in the old days, when she was a fan on the other side of the barrier—or more likely, the television screen—watching her favourites beat seemingly impossible odds. _This is why we put up with the bullshit,_ she thought, soaking up the audience's cheers for Seth. A super kick, a curb stomp, a pin: finally her heart could slow down a bit.

She didn't want to step on Seth's moment, so she waited a beat before getting in the ring, letting him get his bearings; it would be too easy for him to misjudge and lash out without realizing who was standing there. "Good job," she said, keeping it short and sweet; they would be celebrating later, after all.

The way he was looking at her, though . . . _damn_. She had seen people comment on it online—anime eyes, hearts in the eyes—but she hadn't realized how true it was until that moment, with him still on the mat and her standing; the slight distance between them must have made all the difference. 

If he kept looking at her like that, they would be celebrating sooner rather than later.

Some sense came back to her then, and she checked outside the ring to make sure neither Corbin nor Lacey were gearing up for a sneak attack. Then she turned back and helped Seth up, raising his hand in victory. Some fans were probably going to complain about her interference, but since she hadn't touched either Seth or Baron during the match, she didn't regret a thing.

Seth pulled her into a hug so sharply she almost stumbled. "You'll just have to deal with some mushiness for a moment," he said into her hair, arm tight around her shoulders. Then he raised her hand in victory before pulling her into another hug—any excuse to touch her, really. He got that way when he was happy, and Becky certainly didn't begrudge him that.

It didn't mean she couldn't retaliate a bit, though, and lighten up the moment. The brass probably wouldn't approve; it would likely be edited out of the replays. She still gave his ass a light smack anyway, laughing when he waited that one moment too long to make his startled jump seem genuine. "Come on," she mouthed, heading to the ropes and holding them open for him.

"You are the man," he replied with a laugh, going through the ropes at last and sitting—almost collapsing—on the apron. When she sat as well, he closed the distance between them and, strangely, all she could think of was a scene from _The Lion King_ : 'Everything the light touches is our kingdom'.

She tried to give him some space as they walked up the ramp—it was his match, after all, his victory and his belt retained—but he stayed close. "Sorry," he laughed into her hair as he embraced her again on the stage.

"Yeah, yeah." They were almost immediately roped into an interview, but as soon as Becky was done her bit, she motioned that she was going to go change. The women's locker room was essentially empty by the time she arrived; only a WWE intern was there, making sure no one had forgotten anything. "I'll be quick," she promised the girl.

"No worries," the intern replied. "I'm here until the last truck leaves, and it's better in here than untangling wires."

"Very true." Becky peeled off her ring gear and took a quick shower, glad she had chosen sloppy casual clothes to wear to the arena. When she came back into the main locker room area, the intern was watching something on her tablet. "Have a good night," she said as she packed up her bag and headed for the door. 

"Thanks. You too. Good save, by the way." Then the intern blushed a bit, dropping her gaze. "I know I shouldn't say anything, but you two are super cute together. I wish my boyfriend looked at me the way Seth looks at you. It's like he thinks you put the sun in the sky or something."

Becky tried to brush it off as nothing, but she could feel the traitorous blush climbing her cheeks. "Thanks. That's all him." With that, she stepped out into the hall and started heading for the parking area. The men's locker room was on the way, but before she could wonder if she should wait outside, Seth emerged, still smiling, still heart-eyed. "Oh my god, stop," she cried, covering her face with her hands.

"What?" Seth slung an arm around her shoulders. "Aren't I allowed to be happy to see you?"

"Yes, but—" Becky didn't even know how to put it into words. Maybe some of the online haters were getting to her, but she was starting to feel like she hadn't quite earned everything she had: the top spot, the title, Seth. "People are making memes of you and your ridiculously beautiful anime eyes, you dork. You need to stop."

"Never," he laughed, giving her a quick kiss. "What do expect me to do when I'm saved by the best bad-ass woman on the planet? Thanks for that, by the way. What did they tell you beforehand? They told me Lacey that was going to be the ref and that I would still retain, but that was all."

"Hunter just said I was supposed to wait for my cue," Becky shrugged. "Apparently the slow counts and the slap and the kick weren't enough. . . ."

"It's all good. You got to destroy Lacey again, I kept my belt, and I got to hear the pop when you came out." His beaming smile was almost as disarming as his gaze, so Becky dropped her gaze to his chest. Not much of an improvement, in terms of keeping her wits about her. 

"I didn't register much. I was just . . . mad." Now, after the fact, it seemed silly to be so upset. It was scripted and she knew it, and Hunter had a plan—or more correctly, Vince had a plan and Hunter was doing his best to make it palatable. "I just ran and went at Lacey and then the refs were trying to pull me off. I don't know if I even remember hearing the bell." Little lapses like that worried her a bit in the wake of her concussion, but she was sure it was simply being caught up in the moment.

"Well, it was awesome, and you deserved every decibel." Seth bumped shoulders with her as they started to walk. "So thank you. I like being in the ring with you. It's not my favourite place to be with you, obviously," he teased, "but it's on the list."

"Thanks. I just worry about all the backlash." That was the downside of being prolific on Twitter: she saw all the shitty things people said. Differences of opinion she could handle; if someone just plain didn't like her, that was fine. But when people said things like that she was ruining Seth's momentum, those struck a nerve because she worried that they might be right. "Funny, I guess, because Char always used to say one of my best traits was living in the moment, and now I'm second-guessing everything."

"Not everything," Seth corrected. "Just the stuff that's out of your control. We can only wrestle our matches and do our spots. How people perceive them is out of our hands. You could do a perfect spot and someone online idiot is still going to find something to bitch about. It's the nature of the business now."

Becky glanced up at him. Her anxieties were starting to egg just by being near him. "Is that your very subtle way of telling me to stay off Twitter tonight?"

"No. _This_ is my very subtle way of telling you to stay off Twitter tonight." Then he kissed her suddenly, taking advantage of her surprise to pull her phone out of her pocket and tuck it into his own. "You can have it back in the morning."

"Well, then you better have plans to entertain me," she replied with a mock pout, "because I was going to catch up on some of my shows." They had finally reached the parking lot, but she couldn’t spot their rental.

Naturally, Seth found it right away. "Oh, I think entertainment will be the least of your problems tonight, Irish. We'll just have to make a small detour before we go to the hotel."

"Detour?" A surprise might be just the thing to get her out of her own head. "Are we going to get you some panties? I'm still waiting for my pictures, you know."

Seth laughed as he unlocked the car. "Lingerie 101 might be back in session," he hinted, "but the panties are all you tonight."

Becky tossed her bag in the trunk and jumped in the car. She was normally glad to not be driving, but she was especially so tonight; it would give her more time to think about what Seth was planning and, perhaps more importantly, how she would retaliate. She already had a few spare ideas tucked away, but it never hurt to have more.


	15. Push

In a sad way, Becky was almost starting to dread the RAW episodes after pay-per-views. She used to feed off the residual rush, the hangover of excitement and energy and momentum. Now there was so much negativity and petty criticism that it was getting harder to tap into the fun. Before the show started, she had been scrolling through Twitter when Seth grabbed her phone out of her hands. "No more Twitter machine for you," he said gently. While she sat almost speechless, he took her phone into the men's locker room and returned a few moments later, hands empty. "Your phone is in my bag. It's safe, but I'm not giving it back until the show's done and we're at the hotel."

"Excuse you?" Becky stood and glared at him. "What if I need to call—"

"You're at work," he pointed out with infuriating calm, kissing the top of her head and lingering there for a moment. "Becks, remember what Charlotte said about you? That you help her not be so serious all the time? I'm trying to help you not worry. People are going to say whatever the fuck they want. Nothing you say or do will stop that. You could let them script the show and we could all do it to the letter and some people still wouldn't be satisfied."

"I know, but—" Becky's fingers started to twitch. She was so rarely without her phone, a habit from when she had first moved over to North America and would call to check up on her family. "What if I promise to keep off Twitter?"

Seth just shook his head. "If you're a good girl," he said in a mock-fatherly voice, "you can have it back when we're on the way to the hotel."

Becky gave him an arch look. "And if I'm bad?"

"Then you'll get something else." Seth gave her a long, slow kiss, one hand drifting down to her ass. "Now let's get all this shit over with and then we can go," he said, giving her ass a smack that almost rivaled the one she had given him last night.

"Fine." Becky knew her scene cue and sat back down to wait for it, but without her phone to keep her occupied, she got antsy and started edging toward the gorilla position. The thrill of hearing her music never went away, no matter what people said about her, so she focused on her song when it hit, the comforting weight of her belt. The crowd was loud; she registered that much. Whether it was favourable was another story.

They were given a bit of wiggle room with their banter, as long as they hit specific talking points and cue words, and when she focused on Seth, her irritation started to ebb. Of course, it was easy to get distracted watching him too. "But he wasn't smart enough to realize I've got the best back-up on the planet," Seth was saying, turning to look at her.

Becky been planning to give an innocent little shrug like she had at the Hall of Fame ceremony or maybe a smirk, but something in his gaze made her suddenly hesitant. Part of her was already dreading how his comment would be interpreted: _What about the Shield, Seth?_ or _Has he forgotten about Dean already?_ The Shield's fans could be particularly bitter. Luckily, the audience started chanting her name, giving her a bit of time to get back on track—but then Corbin's music hit.

No Baron, though, so it was the classic distraction ploy. Even as she got hit, Becky had to give Lacey a smidgen of credit: she came to fight in heels, which was no easy task. Once Becky reversed it, though, Seth tried pulling her off. Who on earth would script _that?_ As if, given the choice, Seth wouldn't be cheering her on.

When she pushed Seth back, there was a short, strange silence in the arena—a rare occurrence when there were so many people. It was a moment of teetering balance, everyone watching and wondering which way it would tip. There was a hint of something in Seth's gaze that she made a note to ask about later, but then his grin appeared and she knew everything was okay. After last night's supposed cue, she didn't trust Creative not to give them two completely different scripts just to cause chaos. 

When he stepped aside, Becky was clear to go after Lacey and she kept a vague ear on the audience's reactions so she knew when Baron arrived. Once she and Seth had cleared the ring, she felt a weight lift from her shoulders. Listening to Baron and Lacey monotone their way through their promos was tedious—she certainly didn't have to fake her exasperation, at least—but once the mixed-tag match idea was put out there, Becky started feeling fired up again. There was nothing quite like the prospect of a fight, especially against someone she wanted out of her way, to make her feel alive.

Baron and Lacey's stipulation of a double title defence didn't seem to pack quite the punch Creative expected, so Becky knew she and Seth had their work cut out for them later when they cut promos later on. But if Becky thought she woulddn't have to hear Baron or Lacey's voices again for the rest of the night, she was sorely mistaken. She and Seth were standing together, getting prepared for their reply when Baron mentioned Superman. "Don't say kryptonite," Becky muttered under her breath. It was the most obvious direction they could take.

So of course they did, with Lacey declaring that Becky was Seth's kryptonite and that if they got to her, victory was all but assured. "It's trash talk that's not even good enough to be called garbage," Seth reminded her, hugging her from behind. "Besides, you aren't my kryptonite; you're my yellow sun."

" _Nerd._ " Becky leaned back against him and laughed. "Well, at least _that_ didn't go on Twitter, I guess. Come on. Let's get back to work."

"Someone _really_ wants her phone back," Seth teased.

He wasn't wrong, but his reasoning might have been. She had no plans to hop on Twitter—not quite yet, anyway—but there were a few things she wanted to look up before they got to the hotel, and it wasn't the kind of browser history she wanted to leave on anyone else's phone. "Maybe. I mean, you did call me, and I quote, 'the best back-up on the planet'. So if that doesn't fall in the 'good girl' category," she pointed out, "I don't know what does."

Seth steered her away from the screen. "The work's not done yet, Irish. Come on." But even after their rebuttal was done, he kept finding more and more reasons to delay giving back her phone: he had a separate promo to shoot, he wanted to talk to Roman, there was a good match on.

Impatient, Becky finally retreated to the women's locker room to get her things. Dana Brooke was there, checking the extensions in her hair. "Hey, Becky! You were great out there against Lacey tonight."

"Thanks." With just a smidgen of hesitation, Becky asked, "Could I borrow your phone for a quick second? Seth confiscated mine so I couldn't look at all the hate on Twitter, but I'm trying to arrange a surprise for him and I need to look up something."

"I've got my tablet with me," Dana offered, pulling it out of her bag. "Use that. The screen's way better, obviously." After handing the tablet to Becky, she politely turned away and went back to the mirror.

Becky got as far as opening a browser before the guilt grew too loud. "Dana, um, in all fairness, what I want to look up is . . . not rated PG, shall we say? I probably shouldn't use your tablet for this. I don't want anyone looking at your browser history and making assumptions. . . ."

Dana came back to her side and looked down at the screen. "I trust you, Becky. As long as it's nothing illegal, I'm cool with it." When Becky typed out a few keywords in the search bar, though, her eyes went wide. "Oh."

"Yeah. I mean, you know I'd make sure everything was okay before I did anything, but. . . ." Becky started to hand the tablet back and was surprised when Dana, looking a bit shaggy since her hair was only half undone, sat down beside her. "So it's okay. . . ?"

"Hell yeah, girl!" Dana hit the search button herself, eyes scrolling down the first batch of hits that came up. "Try that one," she suggested. "If nothing else, the guy in the screencap is hot."

It was one of the more surreal things Becky had ever done in a locker room, and she had been in a lot of locker rooms in her lifetime. Some of the results were ludicrously laughable; others made them back out before the full page even loaded. After a few different searches, Becky finally found one she thought would work. "Okay, so that goes under. . . ."

"You can try on me," Dana offered, a blush quickly zooming up her cheeks. "Not . . . not like that, I mean, but the first part. If it helps."

The women's locker room was usually a place of good camaraderie. Considering the ring gear some of them wore, it wasn't unusual to see two or three girls helping another one into her outfit. Becky told herself this really wasn't much different. "If you're sure." Then she laughed. "If nothing else, this will be an interesting footnote for our autobiographies."

The practice went much smoother than the internet search had, and after a few attempts, Becky was feeling reasonably comfortable. "You're a natural," Dana said. "And if I see Seth before you do, I won't say a word, I promise."

"Thanks." Becky gestured to Dana and the tablet both. "For . . . all of this."

Dana beamed up at her. "Sure thing. Like you said, if nothing else, it's good for a laugh."

"Well, we can both say we learned something new today," Becky agreed, grabbing her bag. "Don’t forget to clear your history."

"Already done. Have a good night!" Dana called out as Becky waved on her way out the door. 

Becky found Seth easily enough; he and Roman were hard to miss, even in their street clothes. _Keep a straight face,_ she told herself as she walked up. "Phone?" she asked, holding out her hand.

"Hi, Becks." Seth made a show of kissing her hello and hugging her to his side. "Got all your stuff? Roman was just asking if we wanted to go out to a—"

But Roman quickly backpedalled. " _Roman_ ," he emphasized, "knows not to mess with The Man's plans, and I can clearly see that The Man has plans. So I'll see y'all later. Have a good night, you two." He winked at Becky as he turned to leave.

"Seriously, man?" Seth spread his free arm wide and laughed as Roman just shook his head.

"I keep talking about going on a double date with Galina and you two," Roman replied. "I'd like to live to see that day, thanks. He's all yours tonight, Becks."

"Night, Roman." Then she turned to Seth. "Phone?" she repeated.

Sighing, Seth plucked her phone from his pocket and passed it over. "I looked for you, but no one knew where you went."

Becky kept her smile sweet and vague. "I was getting my stuff from the locker room and Dana was there, so we got chatting. You know how it is. She's feeling left behind from the pack, and I know all about that. She was asking for some advice."

She didn't think he was going to believe it at first, but Seth just nodded and led the way to their car. Ever since they had started sharing a hotel room, they had fallen into a comfortable routine. Hanging out with Roman and his wife one night would be nice, but what Becky had in mind for that night was strictly a two-person affair. Now all she had to do was play it cool until they got to the hotel.

*

Seth was still wired from the show, so when he set his bag down in the hotel room, he promptlyly forgot all about it until he heard the zipper snag on its weak spot. He knew that spot off by heart and how to ease the zipper free, but Becky still had trouble with it. "Whatcha doing, Becks?" he said in a sing-song voice. "I already gave you back your phone, remember? Remarkable restraint in staying off Twitter for the whole ride, by the way. I'm proud of you."

Kneeling by his bag, Becky batted her eyelashes. "Does that mean I'm a good girl, then?"

"Depends on why you're going in my bag." Seth reached for it, but Becky grabbed it first and pulled it out of his reach. "Becky. . . ." His voice held just the hint of impatience. "What are you looking for? Tell me and I'll find it for you."

"I'm good," she assured him. "I just need a minute." Then she plopped down on the bed and started working on the zipper again.

Seth dived and tackled her, wrenching the bag away with one hand while wrapping his other arm around her waist. "Tell me what you want," he growled against the back of her neck, "and _maybe_ I'll get it out for you. There could be a surprise in there for you that you're not supposed to see yet. . . ."

"There's not," Becky said, voice full of confidence until he nuzzled her neck, the friction from his beard making her squirm. She could have broken away from him easily, but since she didn't even try, he played along, pressing the length of his body along hers and pinning her to the bed. "And what's this _maybe_ business? You said you would—"

"That's when you were being a good girl." Seth kept teasing her neck to keep her from noticing the hand he was sliding down her hip and into her pants. He could tell the exact moment she realized, because everything about her rose: the depth of her breathing, her ass, even her temperature. "Now you're not." When Becky started working herself against his fingers, he pulled his hand back just enough to make her whimper. "Uh-uh. Tell me what you were looking for."

Becky turned her head just enough that she could look at him, and the fire in her eyes made his hands clench. "Maybe that's my surprise," she replied, voice ragged.

Something in her gaze told him that whatever she had planned would be worth it, so he sat back on his knees and let her go. Becky took her time turning over and pulling her legs free, letting her feet linger over his thighs, and she scuttled back against the scrolled headboard before he could reach for her. "Go get it," he said at last.

She grinned, wicked and carnal. "Nope." Then she leapt on him, straddling him Seth so hard he nearly lost his balance and toppled them both to the floor. He gripped her ass hard enough to bruise, but Becky didn't break their kiss, rough and hungry. When she tried to grind against him, though, Seth bit her lip and made her gasp. She didn't move back far, though, her face close enough that her uneven breaths mingled with his. "In the ring tonight . . . when I pushed you?" She paused just long enough to bite his lip in retaliation, her eyes gone dark. "The way you smiled. . . ." She brought her hands up to his jaw and raked her nails through his beard. "It looked like you kinda liked it."

Seth's heart was hammering so hard he could barely hear a word she said, but all he needed to know was in her eyes. "Maybe I kinda did." He moved his hands down to her thighs and dug in, grinning as her eyes fluttered shut for a moment.

Without warning, Becky pushed him down against the bed, gave his chest an extra shove for good measure, and then stood, wobbling a bit on her feet. "Get me your bracelets," she ordered, holding his gaze.

_Fuck yes._ Seth nearly crashed to his knees in his haste to get to his bag, and he almost laughed at himself. _Trying explaining THAT injury to Hunter and Steph. 'Sorry I fucked up my knee again. Becky wanted to top me, so I had to get my bracelets'._ For a moment he thought about teasing her in turn, bringing out his slip-on wristbands instead, but his cock felt like it was about to explode. "Fuck," he swore. Normally he wrapped them together, but he could only find one. "Here's one—"

Becky wrapped a hand in his hair and yanked his head back until he was looking straight up at her. While he had been digging through his bag, she had stripped down to her bra and panties, and it was one of his favourite sets too. "Find the other one." She let go of his hair so suddenly his head dropped, and she yanked the bracelet away from him.

Seth chanced a look over at her as he rummaged for the other bracelet. "Did you know Rebecca can mean 'to bind'?"

"Join, tie, snare. . . ." Becky let the found bracelet's loosened laces dangle enticingly. "Your work's not done, Lopez," she teased, sitting on the bed and leaning back on her elbows.

His first instinct was to join her up there, to tear her panties off and kiss every bruise his fingers had made, but he wanted whatever she needed those bracelets for even more. When he finally found the second bracelet, he nearly came out of sheer relief. "Here."

"Good." Becky slid off the bed and plucked it from his hands. "On the bed," she ordered. "On your knees. Arms up."

His jeans were unbearably tight, but Seth obeyed, positioning himself in front of Becky. He had always worried about being too rough with some of his earlier girlfriends because of his strength; Becky had confided that some of her previous boyfriends were intimidated by how strong she was. Together they were experimenting with their limits, and it had left them both with some very interesting bruises. 

Setting the bracelets to the side, Becky pulled Seth's shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor. Then she slid one hand down his chest and squeezed his cock, making him lurch. "Hm. Might need to rearrange the order of some things, but that's okay." She licked a long, slow line over his spine tattoo and Seth shivered; it was her favourite place to start teasing him, and she loved to linger there, burying her face between his shoulder blades the way he did with her neck or hair. "Hold your left arm out to the side."

Seth tilted his head just enough to watch Becky start tying one of his bracelets to his wrist, but she wasn't doing the usual lacing pattern he used for his matches. "What are you doing?"

"You'll see. I wanted to look it up on my phone tonight," Becky added pointedly, "but since I didn't have it, I had to improvise."

The thought of Becky looking up bondage techniques on her phone made Seth a bit light-headed. Realizing she must have looked it up on someone else's phone was another level entirely. "You didn't . . . you didn't use someone else's phone, did you?" Fuck, he was going to explode the next time her breasts brushed against his arm.

"No." Then, a beat later, she added, "Tablet. Bigger screen. I could see more detail." She gave the laces a few experimental tugs and when she seemed happy with her work, Becky lowered his left arm and tapped his right. "Now this one."

"Whose?" Seth rasped, eyes shut. "Whose tablet?" The locker room might be a very awkward place next week. "Not Roman's, right?"

Becky gripped his right wrist and laughed. "No, not Roman's." Then she pressed her lips to his tattoo again. "They even let me practice on them."

" _Fuck._ " Fireworks, red and gold, were pulsing behind Seth's eyelids and he wanted to scream. No, howl. Mouth, hands, pussy: he didn't care what devoured his cock at that point. "Pictures or it didn't happen." He cursed himself as soon as he said it; the existence of photos would probably make his whole damn body explode.

"Now who sounds like the Twitter machine?" Becky went silent for a couple minutes as she secured his right wrist. When it was done, she moved back and slapped his ass. "Stretch out," she ordered next. When Seth started to roll onto his back, though, Becky stopped him. "No. Face down."

" _Rebecca, please_." Normally her full name—if said in the right tone—turned her to mush, but no such luck. With a groan, Seth stretched out on his stomach, wincing at the pressure it put on his groin.

"That's cute," she murmured against the nape of his neck before she bit down, "thinking manners will save you. You should know by now I don't give good boys what they want."

_Damn._ Seth's last bit of control had almost tipped over the edge, and it didn't help when Becky straddled his back and extended his arms up to the headboard, where she tied his bracelets together firmly. The laces weren't that strong; he would easily be able to break free if he wanted or needed to, but Seth couldn't imagine either scenario happening. "Becky, I can't—"

"I know." Her voice was suddenly almost soothing, a coo against his shoulders as she slid her hands around his waist and raised his hips. As she unfastened his pants, Seth let out a long, agonized breath as his cock was finally freed. "Safe word?" she prompted as she tugged his pants over his ass and down his legs. Her curls tickled all the way down.

"Khaleesi," he answered through gritted teeth.

Becky laughed and smacked his ass again. "You and your _Game of Thrones_ , I swear." She spent a few moments positioning him how she wanted, spreading his legs or raising his knees until she was satisfied. 

At a soft, glancing kiss on his cock, Seth contorted enough to look down along his body. The upside-down view was disconcerting at first, but as soon as Becky's tongue had worked down his entire length, he couldn't force his eyes open anymore. Sparks were dancing all along his skin, and when she took him fully in her mouth, Seth gasped, his head reeling. She dug the nails of one hand into his ass while the fingers of the other played with his balls. "Becky, I . . . I can't—"

Becky wrapped her arms around his thighs to brace him and scratched lightly as she continued to suck him down. His orgasm crashed through him, making him collapse to the bed, and it took him at least a minute before his head cleared enough to worry if he had landed on Becky. Her rich, throaty chuckle proved she was okay, and he glanced up to see her licking her lips clean. "Not how I planned to start the night," she said, running a hand down his slick back, "but I don't mind improvising."

"Holy shit." Seth kept murmuring it over and over. His pulse didn't have a chance to stop racing: Becky was straddling his thighs again, running her nails along his back as she rubbed herself against him. If the wetness he felt against his thigh was any indication, her panties had soaked through long ago. "Take them off," he pleaded, voice almost hoarse. He wanted to feel her climax against him almost more than he had needed his own release.

"Fuck." Becky was almost breathless as she moved against him. She must have managed to get her bra off one-handed, because he could feel her breasts against his back, achingly soft and warm. "Damn . . . lace," she cursed. 

A moment later, Seth heard her groan as fabric tore free and he spared a quick thought for the panties he had admired so often. Feeling her wet and bare against him, though, was worth a thousand trips back to the lingerie store. Becky pressed herself as close to him as she could, her tiny, panting breaths like explosions of air against his back until her orgasm hit and made her scream. With both their bodies slick now, she slid down his side, but managed to raise herself up enough to press a lazy kiss against his spine. 

When she rolled onto her back beside him, sprawled and smiling contentedly, Seth turned to face her. "You know, if my hands hadn't been tied, I could've helped with that." With a hint of a pout, he added, "I liked that pair, you know."

"You know what else you like?" Becky reached over and tugged on his side until he flipped onto his back.

Seth let his gaze wander all along her body. "All of this?" he said, licking his lips suggestively.

Becky raised an eyebrow. "Again, not what I had planned," she said as she moved to straddle his shoulders, "but it's good to have options. . . ."


	16. She's a God

When Seth realized they would be touring in Asia, he started to think of it as a mini-vacation. Aside from some day trips on rare days off, he and Becky hadn't really had a chance to go travelling together outside of work. At the cultural sensitivity meeting before the tour, though, his enthusiasm dipped a bit when they were all lightly cautioned about public displays of affection. It wasn't as restrictive as in Saudi Arabia, but some of the countries had different laws and customs than they were used to. Hunter, of course, had looked at him specifically, but then added that couples would be given connecting suites; they were still expected to behave decently when in the hotel, however.

While the lecturer had assured them that average, minor interactions—holding hands, hugs, light kissing—were allowed, Seth still felt stifled. When he was with Becky in public, he was usually touching her in some way, often without really realizing it; he was just drawn to her instinctively. Some of the guys teased him about it, but as long as Becky was okay with it, he didn't care. After a long day of appearances and signings, it didn't take Seth long to drop off his bags in his room and then promptly knock on the door that joined his suite to Becky's. He could hear her laughing as she unlocked her side and opened it. "Fancy meeting you here," she grinned, leaning against the wall.

"I missed you." He took a step closer and wound one of her curls around his fingers.

"You're supposed to stop with the anime eyes, remember?" Becky's voice was probably supposed to be stern, but she was smiling just as much he was. She rose on tiptoe when he bent to kiss her, but kept one hand on the doorknob when he tried to pull her across to his side of the threshold. "Seth, I haven't even got my phone out of my bag."

He dipped his head to her neck, nuzzling softly, and when he opened his eyes he could see the fingers she had wrapped around the doorknob start to loosen and slide off. "It's fine where it is," he replied. "You can unpack later."

"Hm. _Later_." Becky swore softly under her breath when he ran his hands under her shirt. "You mean at five in the morning when you let me hurry back to my room so I have just enough time to get ready?"

"The morning meeting's at eight," Seth replied, pushing his hands up higher. "You can leave at seven and still have plenty of time. . . ."

He thought he had almost convinced her when she put both hands against his chest and pushed herself away. "Ten minutes," she promised. "Just let me get some stuff unpacked and ready."

"Five." Seth reluctantly let her shirt drop back into place as he pulled his hands away from her.

Becky stepped close enough that he thought she was actually going to let him win that round, but all she did was kiss his neck and whisper. "Give me ten minutes," she promised, "and you can choose the stipulations."

Seth's laugh turned a bit ragged as his breath caught. She had said _the stipulations_ , not _the first stipulation_ or any other qualifier. Still, it was best to be sure. "How many?" he asked, lips brushing her forehead.

"Everything before midnight," Becky replied, stepping back. "And maybe after. But that means ten minutes _uninterrupted_." 

He laughed at that. His last attempts to help her unpack faster had been messy, to say the least. "Ten minutes," he agreed, setting the timer on his fitness tracker.

"Oh my god, Rollins!" Rolling her eyes, Becky quickly shut the connecting door and locked it.

Seth did a bit of unpacking of his own, listening to a sampler of new music as he walked around the bedroom. As lovely as the skyline was, he shut the curtains out of habit; they would just have to make do with artificial lighting. One song in particular caught his attention and he put it on repeat to listen to the lyrics better. When his watch flashed a two-minute warning, Seth made a quick note on his phone and put it on one of the bedside tables, setting his headphones beside it.

Becky knocked a few seconds later and he returned to the connecting door, not sure what to expect. In similar situations, she had sometimes been naked and other times she had actually put on more clothes, just to make him work. At first glance, she looked the same as when she had arrived, excluding the phone in her hand, which she left on the other bedside table. "So what's the first stipulation?" she asked as he shut off his timer. She was almost two minutes early, so she hadn't forced him to wait; he thought she secretly missed the casual touching almost as much as he did.

Seth stepped in close and gave her a long, deep kiss, making her totter until she gripped his shoulders for balance. "Slow," he murmured against her mouth as he walked them both back towards the bed. "God, I just miss touching you."

"And you wonder why Hunter singled you out." Becky was laughing, but she could be just as bad as him, if not worse; he hadn't slapped her ass in front of a live audience, at least. 

"He didn't single me out." Seth sat at the foot of the bed and pulled Becky down onto his lap, settling her just far enough back that she wasn't pressing against him. Their kisses were slow and open-mouthed, interspersed with licks and bites and even just lips brushing against skin, tender and teasing. "He looked at me, that's all."

Becky's head tipped back as Seth started to kiss his way down her neck. "He looked you dead in the eye. And he called you _Colby_. He hardly ever does that."

Seth chuckled against her collarbone, making her squirm. "You hardly call me that either," he replied, "but sometimes. . . ." It didn't matter to him which name she screamed out for him, Seth or Colby; he just loved getting her to that point where her eyes were luminous and lost and every bone in her body seemed to dissolve.

"What do I have to call you," she asked breathlessly, "to get out of some of these clothes? I thought you wanted to touch me, not my jeans."

Glancing over to his bedside table, Seth spotted the hotel-issue alarm clock and saw that almost half an hour had passed. Thirty minutes of not much more than kissing and heavy petting, and they were both in a haze. "You only had to ask." He stood and set her back down on the bed, hands reaching for her belt.

"No. Shirt first," Becky said, reaching for the hem of her tank top. Seth caught both her wrists, though, and held them in one hand while the other unfastened her belt, button, and zipper in quick succession. "Seth. . . ."

"You mentioned your jeans," he answered with a smarmy grin, "so I figured that's what you wanted off first." After dropping her jeans to the floor, he pushed her down against the bed and held himself above her push-up style before leaning in to kiss her.

"Asshole," she muttered against his mouth. Then Becky gripped the hem of his shirt in both hands and started pulling it up. " _Your_ shirt, then."

Seth sat up just enough to peel his shirt off and toss it to the side. When Becky tried to wiggle out of hers at the same time, he quickly pinned her hands to the bed. "Nuh-uh. Slow, remember?"

"Since when does _slow_ mean _not naked_?" Becky relaxed her hands but wrapped her legs around him.

"Since you said I got to choose the stipulations." Too much skin contact too soon would weaken his resolve, so Seth only let them undress in stages, one item every ten minutes. Each unveiling became a treat, a new area to lavish, and pretty soon Becky wasn't complaining at all. He thought they were both controlling themselves admirably well when, both down to only their underwear, the slightest roll of Becky's hips sent a jolt through him.

"Fuck!" Becky's hand in his hair quickly became a fist and, looking down, Seth realized why: mid-jolt, he had bitten her breast hard enough to draw tiny beads of blood to the surface.

"Shit." Seth covered the angry red bite with soft kisses. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"

But Becky was still breathing heavily, hand still tight in his hair. Her other hand was trying to push his boxers out of the way. "I don't want an apology."

What she did want was obvious, but Seth still savoured teasing her, rolling her panties down slowly, kissing her everywhere from head to toe before kicking his boxers off, and even then he took his time, waiting until she was cussing him out in Irish to ease inside her. It took every ounce of control he had, especially when Becky's moans turned to whimpers, but he drew it out as long as he could. His hunger for touch must have infected Becky as well, because it was long past midnight that they finally slid apart. Her hair was a riot of curls in every direction and his probably wasn't much better, but the look on Becky's face was something he wanted to bottle up and keep forever: smug and sated and utterly spent. "And just think," he managed to say as he sprawled out beside her, "that was just my first stipulation."

Becky raised a limp hand and pointed to the clock. "After midnight," she crooned. "I only said _maybe_ after. My first stimulation is a nap." She rolled over and cuddled up to his side. "Stipulation?" The correction was almost lost against his shoulder. "Yeah, that."

She was dozing lightly within minutes, and Seth used the lull to reach for his phone, posting a link to the song on Twitter while he remembered. After that, sleep and sex alternated in waves, any discussions about stipulations long forgotten. Becky woke again when her phone started pinging randomly. "What the hell?" she muttered. 

She was mostly stretched across Seth, one leg trapped between his, so he had ample time to tighten his arms around her so she couldn't move. "Probably Twitter notifications," he murmured sleepily, running his hands up and down her back. "Ignore it."

If there was one thing practically guaranteed to make her melt back into him, it was running his fingertips along her spine. "But I haven't posted anything since yesterday. . . ."

Seth could feel her breathing slow down as she nuzzled his chest. "I did." He grabbed his headphones and settled them around Becky's ears before showing her the tweet on his phone.

"When did you even post that?" Bleary eyed, she squinted at the screen, trying to make out the time stamp.

"You were sleeping. Just listen." Seth started the song for her and sttledback, letting his free hand wander along her spine.

Becky's sleepy gaze cut up to him almost instantly. "I'm not wearing underwear, for starters."

Seth hit pause. "Art doesn't always imitate life. Just listen to the damn song, Irish."

Making a face at him, Becky restarted the song herself and snuggled back against him, shutting her eyes. The volume was low enough that Seth couldn't hear the lyrics, but he could imagine where she was in the song by her reaction: a laugh, a smile, a blush deep enough that the heat reached his chest. When the song was over and about to launch into the next, Becky pulled the headphones off, setting them on the other side of Seth. "I thought you were an atheist," she said simply, a smile tugging at her lips.

Seth pulled her up along the bed so he could kiss her. "Maybe I just hadn't met the right god." The sampler of music played on, unheeded, while he showed her just how much he believed.

*

Wrestling was a business built on storylines. Even the smaller regional outfits had angles of revenge and underdogs and all the rest, just on a smaller scale. There were some storylines, though, that Becky never quite felt comfortable with, and pregnancy was one of them. It was just too touchy a subject, and she had known a few women who had inadvertently lost a pregnancy because they were wrestling unaware.

Maria and Mike Kanellis seemed keen on it, though, and they had approached Becky and Seth as soon as they arrived at RAW. "We're pregnant!" Maria beamed, throwing her arms wide. "We're going to announce it on the show tonight, and the brass said we could have a mixed tag match to do it!"

Becky shared a quick glance with Seth. "Uh, if you're pregnant, shouldn't you be . . . not wrestling?" She knew some women who had managed it, like Paige's mother, but it came with a lot of risks.

Maria shook her head. "I won't actually _wrestle_. Mike will tag me and then I'll refuse to get in the ring, and that's when I'll announce it," she explained. "And you'll get to tap out Mike and then we'll have a huge blow-out."

Seth frowned too. "But mixed-tag rules say men versus men, women versus women. . . ."

But Maria and Mike were already continuing on down the corridor, eager to share their good news. "Talk to Creative! It's covered!" Maria called out, waving happily.

"Well, at least they didn't try to give us a pregnancy storyline, I guess," Becky said, watching Mike and Maria spread their pregnancy news far and wide. There had been something of a baby boom in WWE in the past few years, or at least it felt like it. Sometimes she thought she was hyperaware of things like that because she didn't have kids, but now she had a different reason. She and Seth still hadn't discussed the issue of kids at length. She had made it clear that she didn't want any _right now_ because her career was going so well, but other than that, it seemed to hint at a future that wasn't a foregone conclusion in their line of work. John and Nikki's very public break-up was only the most recent example of how mixing love and work didn't always turn out well.

"They sorta did by roping us into theirs," Seth shrugged, "but I guess they want us to have some mixed-tag experience before Extreme Rules. Let's go to Creative. Maybe Maria's exaggerating."

But she wasn't. If anything, she had been playing down the more ludicrous parts. As Becky listened to the plans for the interview that would spark the match and then the match itself, she wondered how she was going to keep a straight face through it all; it was veering dangerously close to bizarre soap opera territory. "I guess coming from a company that had an elderly woman give birth to a hand, I shouldn't be surprised."

Seth just shook his head. "Well, if Maria and Mike are cool with it, then I guess their kid gets one hell of a pregnancy announcement."

The inciting interview still felt surreal, and Becky wasn't keen on the idea of going out to the ring to ultimately do nothing more than pat Maria's belly. The women's division was floundering because of repetitive matches, and here was a prime opportunity to showcase two women. Naomi and Jimmy would have been amazing opponents, but instead it was like Seth said: basically a glorified pregnancy announcement. For her part, Becky tried to inject some humour into it, but the whole thing was the epitome of _What the fuck?_ She might actually stay off Twitter voluntarily just to avoid the cringe factor; she certainly avoided the monitors backstage.

When she and Seth were doing their RAW rewatch, Becky almost felt bad for Mike. Not for tapping out to her arm bar, of course; he had botched it a little, but otherwise that part had gone smooth enough. Maria's tirade in the aftermath, though, made both Seth and Becky wince with sympathy. "If we did anything remotely like that," Becky noted, "I'd be getting called every name in the book. Since it's Maria, people will laugh it off as a nagging, neurotic wife."

She was leaning back against Seth's chest and he tugged playfully on her hair, now out of its ponytail. "You wouldn't be a nagging wife, though. Neurotic, maybe. . . ." His fingers slowed in her hair. If kids had been a largely untouched topic, marriage had been outright avoided. There were rumours that Charlotte and Andrade were engaged and even Becky couldn't get a clear answer out of her best friend. But she had also made a point to not discuss it with Seth; she didn't want him feeling pressured by what others—especially Charlotte—were doing, and she highly suspected some of her friends were making some not-so-subtle comments to him.

"Or according to Maria, I can just get people pregnant instead." Becky tried for a change of topic. "I mean, I'm a two-time SmackDown women's champion and reigning RAW women's champion. My stud services should be worth a little bit, right? Charlotte said people pay for cheekbones like mine, which is ridiculous—"

"Becks, you're babbling." Seth pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder and tightened his arms around her. "You know you can talk about pregnancy or marriage and I'm not going to run away screaming, right?"

_You won't, but I might._ She didn't dare say that out loud, though, in case it came across the wrong way. "Yeah, I know. I . . . just don't want to jinx anything."

Letting his lips linger on the nape of her neck, Seth let out a long breath, making her shiver. "We've been together since February. That's over four months. I don't think you're going to jinx us. Besides, we've been friends for how many years now? That makes a huge difference. It's not like I'm some new guy on the roster and you said, 'Damn, he's hot; I want to bang him'."

Becky turned around enough to look up at him. "There's a hot new guy on the roster?" Seth's fingers dug in under her ribs, tickling her just enough to make her squirm. "Kidding. I'm kidding. I know what you mean." She reached back and stroked his hair, letting her fingers get lost in his curls. "I just . . . haven't had those conversations often, you know?"

She could feel Seth's muscles tighten behind her, around her, and she started to brace herself for whatever he might say. "Not even with Luke? You guys were together for a couple years. . . ."

" He already had a daughter, so. . . ." Becky fell quiet. "I suppose if you make it to the two-year mark and marriage doesn't really come up, that's pretty telling, isn't it?"

Seth's shrug lifted her shoulders as well. "Not necessarily. Not when you're in our line of work, travelling all the time. I'm just saying we can discuss that sort of stuff as . . . theoretical, you know? Like asking what your opinion is on . . . fuck, I don't know. Destination weddings or something like that." He grabbed the remote and turned off the television. "Or traditional vows versus custom ones."

"Custom," Becky said automatically. "Like hell anyone's getting me on record as agreeing to obey someone else." She gave Seth a quick kiss and sighed. She had to stop using humour to deflect things so much. "Sorry. I know I shouldn’t be joking around."

"Why not? A lot of the ceremonies and traditions are pretty ridiculous." Then Seth wrestled her down onto the bed. "Like not letting the women fight the men in the mixed-tag matches."

"Agreed." Becky tried to flip him onto his back and normally she could, but apparently Seth was feeling a little more dominant tonight. She managed to get one arm free and she used that hand to grab his hair. "Although I bet you wouldn't be so willing to let me top you then."

Seth laughed. "Context, remember?" He turned his head as much as he could in her grip and licked her arm, making her giggle. "Gender-reveal parties?"

"Stupid," she said flatly. "Why can't people just be happy they're having a kid?" Seth was kissing his way up her arm now, making her fingers twitch. "Um . . . Smashing wedding cake into your partner's face?"

"Waste of cake." Seth gave a victorious chuckle when Becky's grip finally loosened, giving him more freedom to move. He slid a hand beneath her tank top and she expected it to dance along her ribs or tease her breast, but he rested it over her heart and asked, "Moving in together?"

Becky wondered if he could feel the lurch in her chest. It was daunting enough to think about their relationship as a serious entity when she had a quiet moment to herself, let alone when he was on top of her. "This . . . doesn't feel theoretical," she chanced.

"It's not." Seth moved down to kiss her abdomen. Normally the rasp of his beard would make her giggle or squirm, but she was too stunned by the question. "I'm always at your place or you're at mine. You've got stuff at mine; I've got stuff at yours. We're basically living together in hotel rooms as it is."

"I don't know if I'm ready to give up California." It was a far cry from Ireland, but in many ways she liked that. It would have been easy to find some place just like home, but the difference forced her to think about how she was living her life on a daily basis. "I mean, I like Davenport well enough and I love your place, but—"

"We don't have to give either place up. We could just be a little more . . . definitive about it." Seth changed directions again, moving back up the bed to push her shirt to her collarbone. "I could clear out a closet for you, that sort of thing. Then you don't just have a drawer here or there and some stuff in the bathroom."

Arching her back, Becky wriggled out of her tank top and yanked Seth up further. "A shelf in the fridge?" she asked.

When Seth grinned down at her, heart eyes and all, complaining never even crossed her mind. "One of the middle shelves, since you're shorter and all."

"Well, then, since you're so _tall_ ," she countered, "you can use that cupboard in the kitchen with the door that always sticks." Becky tried to use a kiss as a distraction, but Seth saw her hands moving and he quickly pinned her back down. "As long as you stay away from my quinoa."

His low chuckle made her shiver in anticipation. "I don't want your quinoa." Stretching Becky's arms above her head, Seth eclipsed her body with his. "When you're at my place, you could go to Black and Brave whenever you wanted. They'd love that."

"I don't know. If you're seeing me at work and at home, you might not want me to be at your school too." Becky slid her hands into the back pockets of his jeans. This was such a fine line, teasing with real possibilities.

"Never gonna happen." Seth unfastened her bra and tugged Becky's hands free so he could pull it off. The breast he had bitten accidentally still had a slight bruise, and he traced it with his tongue. "We can go slow with it, Becks. A weekend at your place, then one at mine. See how it goes. If it's not working, then we try something else."

"And if it does work?" Somehow that prospect was scarier than the negative. She would never ask him to give up his wrestling school; while she had no such ties to California, she wasn't sure she wanted to leave. Some self-defeating part of her brain was always looking for the exit, the escape hatch; if things went sour, she wanted to know she had options to help her get back on track. Maybe the detour in her career had made her think like that, but she had never hated feeling that way quite so much until she was with Seth—until she had someone who made her want to stay.

"Then we have another discussion." Seth sat back and rested his hands on her hips. "Which we could do now," he offered, his fingers tracing the waistband of her shorts. "Or later. . . ."

"Much later," Becky agreed.

When they were spooned later, Seth's face buried into her shoulder in the way that made her complete mush, Becky glanced around and realized that they made a home of any place they happened to be. It didn't matter if they were in a hotel room or her place or his; it was Seth that made the place comfortable for her, not closet space or a shelf in the fridge. Maybe she couldn't commit to Davenport fully just yet, but California now had some serious competition.


	17. Gorilla Press

Becky seemed to bring a whirlwind of colour and chaos wherever she went, and Seth loved it. Most of it, anyway. Coming home from his wrestling school to open the door and hear one of her favourite songs blaring—or, even better, one he'd introduced her to—was like the best possible punch to the gut. He would linger in the foyer, listening to her sing along, or peek around the corner to watch her before she realized he was there. They had navigated most of the casual cohabiting problems easily enough, but her Twitter habit had led to him changing the wi-fi password so often he could barely remember it himself.

When he found her in the living room, she was frowning down at her phone. "You changed it _again_?" Her thumbs pounded at her phone screen. "It was _Game of Thrones_ related, I know it was. . . ."

"Use your data." As he walked past, Seth leaned down and kissed the top of her head, then paused when his phone started to vibrate in his pocket. "Rebecca. . . ." Using her full name usually got her attention, but she was quickly becoming immune to it, so he would have to think of something else. "What did you post this time?"

Becky leaned back, grinning as she looked up at him. "Just a movie reference. What? You post songs and movie quotes," she pointed out, "so you really shouldn't judge. . . ." Her laughter started out as a low chuckle and snowballed into breath-stealing gales as Seth opened Twitter on his phone and waded back through notifications to her original tweet.

He didn't want to laugh. He tried not to, but he had to admit, Becky's response to critics about their supposed lack of chemistry was better than any serious rebuttal would have been. " _Dirty Dancing_ , though?" Then his laugh burst out and he leaned over the back of the couch, kissing her cheek. 

"It's better than Anakin and Padme tumbling in a field," Becky retorted. Her eyes darkened a bit as her tone turned serious. "We should probably practice before Monday, though. I don't think you've done a gorilla press for a while. We could go to the next house show early for some extra ring time. . . ."

Arching an eyebrow, Seth dropped his Black and Brave lanyard in her lap as he went to the kitchen. "Because it's not like I have a wrestling school with its own ring or anything."

Becky sat up straighter, turning around to watch him over the back of the couch. "I don't think your students would appreciate paying tuition and then being told they can't have their ring time because you want to practice a dance move."

Seth didn't answer right away, feigning interest in the contents of the fridge and stealing a bottle of water from Becky's shelf instead of his own. He knew Becky wasn't really serious; the humour was a way for her to deal with an issue that affected her more than she liked to admit. All her talk about Vince and his blond fixation was a cover for something deeper: the nagging feeling that she wasn't good enough, pretty enough, feminine enough. Complete bullshit in his opinion, but his reassurances could only do so much, especially when those insidious thoughts had been planted in her head early and never really went away. "Long weekend coming up," he said simply. "So there's no classes. Besides, isn't that a perk of being the boss?" Bottle in hand, he joined her on the couch. "I'll call Marek and tell him we need the place today. And then," he added with a grin, touching the cold bottle to her legs to make her jump, "I apparently need to find a gif."

"And tell me the new wi-fi password," Becky added, "or else I'll just steal your tablet and start posting from there."

"You're such an ddict." Making a mental note to change _all_ his passwords, Seth got up to call his fellow trainer and clear the school's schedule for the rest of the day. Then he found a suitable gif for his Twitter reply and posted it before going back to the living room. "Done," he reported. "A couple of the guys were going to come in to practice, but Marek promised them another time slot next week."

He couldn't read the look Becky gave him at first. It was somewhere between disbelief and delight. "You're sure? I know what the school means to you—"

"I'm sure. Come visit the school one day when classes are in and do a Q-and-A with the group. They'd all love it, especially the girls. There's one—I'm pretty sure her name is Sam—I swear she has every shirt WWE's ever put out for you." Seth plucked his lanyard out of her lap and grabbed her hands to pull her to her feet. "So come on. We've got the place for the day. Are you practicing in that?" he asked, taking his time to admire her cut-off shorts and tank top. "Because if we really want to be authentic, you should be wearing a dress. Maybe you could get one of those tear-away skirts like Lacey wears. . . ."

Becky turned them both around and shoved Seth down on the couch, straddling him and leaning hard on his chest. "Never." Then she grinned. "You could wear a kilt, though. I'm sure Drew has one you could borrow."

"Or not." Seth held on to her as he sat up, dumping her off to the side as he stood. "Come on, Irish. I'll even let you choose the music we practice to."

"Well, since you put it that way. . . ." Becky grabbed her phone and checked what music she had on it before she stood. "I'm good. Let's go."

On the drive over, Seth told her about the academy's most promising students. He had brought Becky to the wrestling school a few times when she was at his place, but some business matter always came up and she had never had a full, proper tour. "We should have you and Bayley come in together some time," he said as they parked behind the building. Enough of the locals associated him with the school now that he had to go in the staff entrance if he wanted to have any privacy.

"She'd love that." Becky sent her friend a quick text as they went inside. As Seth flicked all the main lights on, she shook her head and laughed. "This is so different from what Finn had when I started out," she murmured, glancing around at all the equipment. "Incredible." All the front windows were covered, making the main space look even more imposing.

"Thanks." Seth felt his cheeks warm a bit. He was obviously proud of his career, but he considered the school an investment—in like-minded people, in the future of wrestling. He wasn't sure his last few girlfriends would have understood how much that meant to him. Becky came up and gave him a long hug, resting her head against his chest. "You want a full tour today," he asked, "or do you just want to start dancing?"

"Tour," Becky said. "I'm not used to it being so quiet. It's a bit eerie, actually." She ran her hand along a weightlifting bar as they strolled through the workout area. "When I think of wrestling, I always think of noise. I can't believe I started almost twenty years ago."

"Yeah, I don't think Finn will ever let you live that down." Seth curled an arm around her waist as he pointed out various features. "You two will be in some seniors' home for aging Irish wrestlers and he'll be shaking his cane at you and saying 'Fifteen, Rebecca! Do you know how much trouble you could have caused?' and everyone will think he's a perv or something."

"Nah. He'll probably still be teaching. He's so generous with his time. I'll never be able to thank him enough for everything he did for me." Heaving a deep sigh, Becky looked up at Seth. "Did he inspire you to open Black and Brave?"

Seth nodded. "A little bit, yeah. We talked about it when we rehabbing together and then Marek brought it up too, and I see how proud Finn is when he sees you or Nikki or Jordan wrestle. Wrestling's given so much to me, so I guess this is one way of giving back." They went through the locker rooms quickly, Seth frowning when he noticed that some students had left personal items behind. "I'll have to remind them not to do that. They should be able to trust everyone here, but you can't guarantee that when you're on the road."

"Yeah, learned that the hard way." When they were back in the main area, dominated by the ring, Becky looked around. "Where's the Bluetooth speaker?"

Seth pointed to a mock announce table and handed her a set of keys and then his phone. "There's a locked drawer under there. Like I said, they're good kids, but. . . ."

Becky fumbled with the lock and pulled out the Bluetooth speaker, syncing it with her phone and choosing a playlist, setting Seth's phone by the speaker as well. Glancing down at her feet, she said, "I don't need shoes, right?"

"I promise not to crush your toes." Seth rolled in the ring and watched as Becky kicked off her shoes and left them by the announce table. "I should have reviewed the footage before we left to make sure we got it right," he quipped.

"We could always call Finn or Bayley," Becky said, giving a small yelp as she trotted up the ring steps. "Not used to bare feet on the stairs."

"Now, now, Irish. No excuses. This was your idea." Seth grinned and positioned himself across the ring from Becky. "Unless you want to throw the match with Andrade and Zelina so we don't need a victory dance. . . ."

"Nice try." Becky took a few experimental steps around the ring, getting used to how it felt with bare feet instead of wrestling boots. Once she was used to the change in grip, she went to the opposite corner and faced Seth. "Okay, so how do we do this?"

Seth laughed. "You run and jump. I grab, lift, and hold. Very scientific."

He wasn't wrong about that. He also wasn't wrong about reviewing the clip. Their first attempt was a near disaster. Becky's approach was somewhat hindered by her bare feet, and Seth's catch faltered, leaving Becky nearly toppling out of the ring. She managed to grab the second rope and was almost upside down, like someone nearly eliminated at the Royal Rumble and desperately trying not to go over all the way. "So much for beginner's luck," she laughed as Seth hauled her back into the ring. "Bayley and Finn made it look so easy. It's probably because she's lighter."

"None of that." Seth silenced her with a quick kiss before sending her back to her corner. "They probably practiced too. Come on. We'll get it."

Their second attempt had Becky crashing down on one knee and Seth slumped back against the turnbuckle. "The luck of the Irish will kick in any minute now," Becky quipped. "I swear."

"Well, you're not a real ginger, so maybe you're not really Irish either," Seth teased. "Maybe you're actually. . . ." He made sure he was a good distance away before he faked a scandalized gasp and said, " _English_."

"You shut your dirty American mouth." Becky rubbed her knee and made sure she had a full range of motion before she stood, hauling herself up with the rope. "Seth, you know we don't have to do this, right? It was just a joke and it's sweet of you to offer, but—"

"But," Seth finished, coming up and kissing her, "we have nothing to prove to anyone. This is for us. For fun. Besides, there are worse fates than having you sending me crashing to the floor."

Becky laughed as she went back to her corner, shaking out her knee. "You know if you want me to top you, you just have to ask, right?"

"That's for later," Seth grinned. "For now, gorilla press." He shook out his arms and got back into position. "Come on, Irish."

The third attempt went somewhat better, though Seth's balance faltered and left Becky reaching for the top rope. "Don't drop me!" It was more of a laugh than a scream, though, and Seth got her safely back in the ring. "Good thing I didn't keep up La Luchadora for long," she said, leaning against him as she caught her breath. "Slapping the heads off people is much easier."

"And it would be a crime to hide this gorgeous face behind a mask." Seth meant it to be a quick kiss, but Becky backed him into the turnbuckles and stood on the bottom rope to get a slight height advantage on him. "You can top me after we master your move." He laughed at her frustration as she hopped back down to the mat. "Maybe you'll think twice about what you post on Twitter from now on."

Becky shrugged. "Probably not, no." After a few more tries, though, they achieved something passable. It was hardly a graceful move worthy of a ballroom, but when Seth looked up at Becky's beaming face, he thought of the unbridled joy of a kid being tossed in the air, safe in the knowledge that the adult would catch them. Seth spun around until she giggled and then let her drop back down into her arms. "Thank you," she said softly, twining her arms around his neck and kissing him. "We don't have to do it at the show, but thank you for humouring me."

"Creative probably wouldn't let us do it on RAW anyway," Seth replied, "but we're doing it at the next house show." When Becky leaned back in the circle of his arms to give him a questioning look, he shook his head. "We didn't do all that work for nothing, Becks. I mean, we didn't even film that. So we're doing that at a house show this weekend." He loved the freedom of house shows, but also the fan reactions; they tended to be a lot more grateful and genuine than the audiences for the taped shows sometimes were.

Becky nudged him back towards the turnbuckle. "My turn now."

"Becks." Seth gave her a warning look. He had no doubts that Becky was strong; he had seen proof of that in the ring and in his bed. But she wouldn't be able to catch him and lift him up, and he didn't want to crush her. "I don't think that's wi—"

But she kept pushing him backwards until he felt the turnbuckles against his back. "You said I got to top you later." She graced him with a wide, wicked smile. "It's later." Then she hooked a foot behind his left knee and pulled back until he was forced to hold on to the ropes to stay upright.

"Here." It was more of a confirmation than a question. Seth couldn't remember ever having sex in a wrestling ring before. He had cleaned his share of rings while on the road, though, and he knew it wasn't the most enjoyable task.

Becky was already undoing her shorts, pushing them and her panties down in one smooth move. "Sit down." She peeled her shirt off next, but left her bra on for some inexplicable reason. 

Seth watched each small movement and knew exactly where his hands were going to go first—if he was allowed to move them, that is. He sat so quickly he nearly jarred his tailbone, but when he moved to undo his pants, Becky batted his hands away and did it herself, pushing them down just enough to get his cock out. "Terms?" he managed to say when she stepped back. From that angle she towered over him, naked except for that damnable bra.

Becky lowered herself onto him slowly, using the second rope for balance. Her forehead brushed his as she settled into place, reaching around him to grip the second turnbuckle. "Just that you stay where you are."

He lowered his head to her shoulder and kissed it. "So I'm allowed to touch you?" When she nodded, he slid a hand around to her back. "And take this off?" She moved back just enough to give him room to work, which he took as an invitation.

"Yes," she sighed, gripping the back of his head with one hand, "and please." She kept her other hand on the turnbuckle, using it for balance as she started to ride him. Their gorilla press attempts had clearly turned her on, because she was moaning in under a minute. "Maybe I . . . I misjudged," she panted. "I don't— _fuck_. . . ."

"Don't stop," Seth whispered against her chest. A tiny part of his mind reminded him that someone could walk in at any time; he hadn't told Marek they were doing anything private—he certainly hadn't planned for _this_ —and there were other managers who had keys. Now that Becky was riding him, though, his main worry was that he had a new kink to add to his list.

"But I—" She was screaming now, in short, sharp bursts that made him want to pin her down and devour her.

How he managed to maintain any sense of calm, Seth didn't know, but he worked a hand between them and teased her until she collapsed against his chest. "Fuck." He was just on the edge of his orgasm, but having Becky quivering in his arms was worth the delay. "Fuck, am I glad I own a ring."

Still catching her breath, Becky slid off him slowly and knelt between his legs, kissing and sucking him until he came too. Then she curled up against him, head heavy against his chest. "Well, we can do _that_ move with no problem, at least."

"I don't know. There's always room for improvement." Seth ran a hand up and down her back. "Next time we order supplies," he added, "I'll get order some spare canvases just for us."

Becky's laugh made them both shake. "Very subtle. No one will ever figure out why."

"Perk of being the boss," Seth echoed, slumping a bit against the turnbuckle. Now that the notion was in his head, his mind was racing with possibilities. "You should go get cleaned up." When she reached for her clothes, though, he swept them out of her reach. "I'll bring them for you."

"For me," Becky asked, rolling out of the ring, "or with you?" She sauntered slowly backwards, somehow not looking out of place naked in the middle of a wrestling school. Once she reached the announce table, she shut off the music on her phone and, before Seth realized what she was doing, she snapped a quick picture. "Don't worry: nothing's showing. I just wanted proof of the anime eyes," she added with a sly grin.

How anyone could look at her—even when she was fully clothed—with anything less than admiration, Seth didn't know, but he propped his arms up on the bottom rope and happily watched her make her way back to the locker rooms. She kept walking backwards until she reached the corridor, where she gave a mock curtsey before turning and blessing him with the rearview for a few seconds.

Seth allowed himself a few moments to get himself together before he pulled up his pants, gathered Becky's things along with his phone and keys, and locked the speaker away. He half expected her to be waiting just around the corner, ready to ambush him, but he couldn't even hear her until he got to the men's locker room and heard a shower running. Sure enough, a quick peek in the women's locker room revealed nothing and no one, but he found Becky singing away happily in the men's, her phone safe and dry on a bench in the changing area. When she turned and saw him, she just smiled. "It said _Men's_ on the door," she said, "so I figured it was ours. Unless you have a private locker room too?"

Strangely enough, it hadn't been something he had thought of when he and Marek first started the wrestling school; he usually just waited until the students were done or changed in his office. Now, though, he was thinking a small remodel might be in order, especially if Becky was going to be staying at his place in Davenport more often. "Not yet. It's on the list."

"After the ring canvas, right?" Becky had wound her hair up into a messy bun so it was out of her way, and a few strands fell around her ears. She shut the water off and walked over to him, stopping just inside the shower area. Drips fell from her and the showerhead, echoing eerily in the mostly empty space, and she leaned against the wall and watched Seth undress, leaving all his things beside hers. 

"That depends on how much time you'll be spending here. I might need the private shower more." He reached for her waist and pulled her close, turning on the nearest shower.

"But you don't have a wrestling ring at home," Becky pointed out, letting out a sharp squeal when Seth spun her around and pressed her against the tiled wall. "You have showers."

"True. But not this big." Seth stretched her arms out above her head and kissed his way down her wet back, nudging her legs further apart with his knee. "I want to see that picture when we get home," he added, sneaking a hand between her legs. "I really shouldn't let you keep it. You hardly ever let me take pictures of you."

Becky's hands were splayed against the tiles, slipping down a bit each time she gasped. "Because you always want to take one of me when I've just woken up and I look like a mess."

"A sexy, beautiful, amazing mess," Seth corrected, moving his fingers faster as he pressed into her. She would come before he would—the first time, anyway—but it wanted it that way; he loved feeling her body shake and melt when he could focus on it completely. Only his arm around her waist kept her standing when she came, and her delirious little laugh let him know that it had been the type of orgasm she loved most, the one that left her tingling down to her toes. 

"You're just saying that because you're the one who makes me a mess," Becky accused lightly, moving back against him. He had to readjust the hand between her legs and he almost slipped, taking them both to the slick floor, so he pressed her hard against the wall. "Mmmm. Harder."

He pressed her even closer, sure she would come away with the indents from the tiles marked on her skin. "I think you mean _nee-us laycha_."

Seth couldn’t see any colour around her pupils when she turned to look back at him. "You remembered." She could tease him about his anime eyes all she wanted, but the smile on her lips was completely besotted.

"Of course." He nuzzled her neck hungrily, fingers digging into her hip. "My terms: you only get to speak Irish the rest of the time we're in the shower." He hadn't learned much more than those few delicious key words she had taught him back in the spring, but he would get everything he needed from her tone, her movement, her breathing.

Soon enough she wasn't using words anyway, just gasps and a final, wrenching scream that might have held a cheating touch of _Yes!_ Then Becky slumped to the floor, Seth too spent himself to keep his grip on her, and she leaned back against the wall, eyes shut against the spray of water. 

He sank down beside her, tossing his sodden hair behind his shoulders. She leaned against his side and murmured something in Irish, running her fingers through his chest hair. "Okay, so my terms don't work so well for me, do they?" He chuckled sheepishly, trapping her hand against his chest. "What did that mean?"

"I love you, you fucking marvel." Becky kissed his shoulder before snuggling closer.

Seth doubted that was it, or at least it wasn't all of it. He had heard Becky—and Sheamus and even Finn—swear often enough that he had a good idea of what _fuck_ sounded like, even if he mangled the pronunciation. But if that was the heart of what she said, he would take it gladly. _Fala amo_ had become one of his tenets. Becky might not always express herself in ways that made sense to him, but as long as he understood the intent, it didn't matter if it was in English or Irish or without words at all.


	18. Cover Girl

"You know what doesn't make any sense?" Becky didn't even bother looking up from her stretch. If she and Seth were in the same room, his gaze gravitated to her no matter what she was doing. Part of her thought he did only kept doing it because it bugged her, but she was gradually starting to like it. People could make fun of it all they liked—she had too, for a while—but when you had someone look at you like you were the only thing they ever wanted to see, you couldn't help but feel better. "Creative keeps giving us spots where you stop me from hitting Lacey. In what universe would you do that?"

Seth finished lacing up his left boot before answering. "One where I don't want you to lose matches because you're distracted?"

"I'll be so happy when we're done with Corbin and the plank." Sighing, Becky flopped down beside him on the bench. "I mean, I know we still have to do house shows with them, but I'm bored. I want something new to do." When Seth raised an eyebrow, she laughed and bumped her shoulder against his. "Present company excluded, of course. You can stay around for a while."

"I can, can I?" Abandoning his right boot, Seth slung an arm around her shoulders and kissed her. "It's because I have a wrestling ring, isn't it?"

Blushing a bit, Becky ducked her head against her shoulder as some wrestlers walked past. Knowing they wouldn't be able to sneak their gorilla press past Creative, they had done it at a house show, and while it hadn't gone exactly to plan, it was a bright spot of fun in a rivalry that was dragging on far too long for her liking. "Yep. Totally. That's the only reason. You better be careful, because Finn has one too. And I think Tyler Breeze is affiliated with a wrestling school now." Becky started counting names off on her fingers until Seth grabbed her hands.

He started to whisper something in her ear when he saw Andrade and Zelina approaching. "You're still sure?" Andrade asked, watching Becky carefully. 

The spot called for Andrade to be running at Seth and for Becky to pull Seth out of the way, getting hit in the process. So far, Andrade had been an utter gentleman about it, and Becky wasn't sure how much of that stemmed from him himself and how much came from Charlotte angsting over having her best friend in a match against her boyfriend. "Yeah, I'm cool," she assured him. "We've got our timing down. It'll all be fine." He had even insisted on practicing when the arena was empty.

Andrade nodded slowly. "My only worry is all of the cords and equipment at ringside. There's no telling where it will be. It wouldn't take much for something to go wrong. And with that concussion you had last year. . . ."

"It'll all be fine. You're both pros," Seth added, "and she's tougher than she looks." He shot Becky a wink and quickly got out of striking distance. "Honestly, it's not that bad of a bump. Everything will be fine. We're really looking forward to the match." He put his other boot on quickly and handed his bracelets to Becky. He far preferred what she could do with them in a more private setting, but he always teased that having her tie the laces brought him luck.

"Same." Zelina focused on Becky. "I wish I'd got a shot at the SmackDown belt when you had it. I think we could have had a good feud."

Becky nodded. "Still can. We've got the Wild Card thing going on," she pointed out, trying not to roll her eyes. She wasn't a fan of the concept on the whole, mostly because it was taking opportunities away from underutilized wrestlers on both brands. "And with SmackDown moving in the fall, who knows where anyone will end up?"

Zelina nudged Andrade in the side. "Well, we _could have_ been on RAW if not for someone's girlfriend. . . ."

As if on cue, Charlotte strolled in. She wasn't scheduled to compete or even appear, but much as Seth had come along to some of Becky's SmackDown appearances during their early days of dating, she was there just to spend time with Andrade. "Hey, Becks." She sat on the other side of Becky and hugged her. "It's been a while since we hung out." She glanced around Becky's shoulders to look at Seth. "I'm going to steal my girl for a bit before the show's done." In typical Charlotte style, she told people what she was going to do rather than ask permission to do it.

Seth just nodded. "Yeah, hang as long as you'd like. We have an early morning, though, so be sure to get her home before her curfew. . . ."

Charlotte laughed. "Okay, Dad." Then she sat back and grinned. "Or which one of you is the Daddy here? I mean, it should be Seth, but I know my Becks and she's pretty strong-willed—"

"You're horrible." Becky stood and rolled her neck, notably not answering Charlotte's question. "Everyone ready?"

There were nods all around, and a palpable air of excitement. Mixed-tag matches were still a rarity, especially on the main shows, so there was more pressure to do well, to show that they were viable and entertaining. Charlotte rose as well and kissed Becky's cheek. "Don't hurt my baby, okay?"

Becky rolled her eyes as she laughed. "I'll do my best."

"And you. . . ." Charlotte went over to Andrade and gave him a quick kiss, murmuring something in Spanish before she stepped back. "Don't hurt my baby," she repeated, glancing over at Becky and winking. "This is going to be so hard to watch. I won't know who to cheer for."

"Me." Andrade said it just a second after Becky did, and they both laughed.

The bout reminded Becky how fun tag matches could be. She had mostly been in singles matches for years, with the odd forced tag match here and there, and they had a completely different energy. Of course, mixed-tag rules were a bit of a hindrance; for some strange reason, Creative had also made it an elimination match, which essentially made it a singles match after the first pin or submission. At least Lacey's interjection wasn't much more than a blip. Becky spared a thought for Charlotte when she stared down Andrade, and took heart in the 'Let them fight!" chants. Things were changing—slowly, but changing all the same.

Once Becky tapped out Zelina, though, she felt a bit like a glorified valet. There was more for her to do in the spot—the unintentional hit that Andrade was so concerned about—but at least she would get to tussle with Zelina a bit more. Their wrestling styles were so different, and it was a refreshing change from Lacey's reliance on punches. When the time came for the collision with Andrade, Becky tried to scout out her surroundings as subtly as possible. There were cords coiled up along the barriers, so she made sure to keep her feet far enough away that she wouldn't accidentally trip on them and fall harder than planned. If she had to relinquish her belt—or worse, drop it to Lacey Evans of all people—because of another head injury, she would be beyond pissed.

As she saw Andrade running up behind Seth, preparing to blindside him, Becky felt a weird little rush. It wasn't that she enjoyed pain or anything. It was more about pushing the boundaries. WWE was so reluctant to show men striking women; that they trusted her to do it safely and sell it well at least meant they still had faith in her. Grabbing Seth's arm, she met his gaze briefly, trying to telegraph _I'm good_ as she shoved him out of the way. A second later, Andrade was there, though all she really registered was his shoulder, and she crashed into the barrier.

It was hard to stay down as Seth launched himself at Andrade, but Becky kept herself still until Seth came over. She wasn't surprised to see genuine concern in his eyes, to feel it in the way his hand landed on her side, so she gave him a little hand gesture they had agreed upon, cognizant of the cameras. That close to the audience, she couldn’t risk saying anything obvious. The match went on and even if she and Zelina weren't officially involved anymore, Becky was grateful that Creative had found some ways to work them in. _I hope they bring the Mixed Match Challenge back,_ she thought as Seth held Zelina in place so Becky could kick her.

Her enthusiasm dipped considerably after Seth had won his portion of the match and they made their way up the ring. As a fan, it had always annoyed her when wrestlers had their backs to the stage entrance, because it was a clear sign of an ambush about to happen—and here they were, making the same mistake. Corbin was out first, and at least she got the pleasure of attacking him before Lacey came out and got her in turn.

Charlotte was practicing her Spanish with Andrade when Becky and Seth made it into the back, and she quickly stood. "People really need to stop hitting your jaw. Hasn't Ireland declared it a national treasure yet?" she joked, patting Becky's reddened cheek. Seth gave her a nod and continued on; they had an interview scheduled with Corey Graves later, and he was going to get briefed on the talking points.

"I guess America didn't get the memo," Becky replied. Lacey had hit harder than necessary. Whether it was on purpose or just another one of her botches, it was hard to tell. "But it looks like I'm getting sent to doctor jail, so if you want to hang out, you'll have a captive audience."

"My favourite." Grinning, Charlotte turned back to Andrade and kissed him. "Later, Papi."

Becky gave her a look as they continued towards the medical office. "Papi?" she echoed. "Things must be going well."

"Yeah." Charlotte was practically glowing as she smiled. "Oh, come on. Don't tell me you and Seth don't have a bunch of nicknames for each other."

She had to stop and think, and Charlotte wrapped an arm around her waist, keeping her moving forward. "Well, he calls me _Becks_ or _Irish_ , usually. _Rebecca_ if he's getting annoyed," she added with a laugh. Did she really have no nickname for him? She hadn't realized. "I just call him _Seth_ , mostly. Sometimes _Colby_. Damn. I should work on that, huh?"

Charlotte shook her head. "It's not a big deal, Becks. Nicknames . . . just happen. He'll end up doing something or saying something that will stick, and then it'll be special to the two of you. How are things? We should go on a double date sometime. . . ."

"You just came back, Char. I doubt they're going to want you taking weekends off already." Becky knocked on the medical office door and stepped inside. "Reporting for duty."

The doctor gave her a sympathetic look. "Sorry, Becky. It's protocol. I'm sure you're fine. Hi, Charlotte," he added. "You're welcome to stay if she's fine with it."

"She is," Charlotte replied before Becky had a chance to say otherwise, giving her a winsome grin as she sat in a visitor's chair. "So things are good? Have you guys moved in together yet? We haven't officially, but I swear I have more of Andrade's clothes at my place than I do my own! Seriously, you would not believe how many pairs of shoes he has! The last time we were in Miami, he spent half a day in one store alone. . . ." 

Charlotte chattered on about her relationship and Becky didn't begrudge her; it was nice to hear her friend so happy, so in love, and it gave her something to concentrate on aside from the doctor. She knew it was only a precaution and she appreciated the thought, but every time she had to see a doctor, she just thought of Nia's punch all over again, derailing what she had worked so hard to accomplish. "You both look really happy," Becky said when Charlotte paused for breath. "I'm glad. You deserve it. Even if Naomi does seem to be trying to have us both pregnant so we're out of her way."

"God, you noticed that too?" Charlotte burst out laughing. "It's all good, though. She's so sweet. So . . . you and Seth? Everything's good?"

Becky nodded. "Yeah. We're sort of bouncing between California and Davenport. He's got his school, so he doesn't want to move, which I totally get. I thought I didn't want to leave California, but I'm not so sure. I need to think about it more."

When the doctor stepped away to write some notes in Becky's file, Charlotte came up and hugged her. "I love the way he looks at you." When Becky flinched, bracing herself for another heart-eyes comment, Charlotte kissed the top of her head. "No, Becks, it's good. It's so good. You deserve someone who looks at you like they never want to let you go. You just tell him if he screws this up, I will fucking destroy him, okay?"

Becky chuckled, but didn't reply. Everyone seemed to think it would be Seth who would ruin their relationship. On one hand, she appreciated their faith in her, but she wished it extended to him too. He had made mistakes in the past, obviously, but so had she. "I think Naomi's already given him that warning," she said simply, glancing over at the doctor. "All good?"

The doctor nodded. "Good to go. You might have some swelling and bruising," he reported, "but nothing that will keep you out of action. Enjoy the rest of your night, ladies."

"Let's go." Charlotte looped an arm around Becky's waist again and started heading to the women's locker room. Leaning close, she whispered, "Because if he _looks_ at you like that, then I'm guessing the sex is _amazing_."

Becky tried not to laugh. For the first time in her life, she might actually be glad to see Corey Graves, if only it meant she was able to dodge some of Charlotte's questions.

*

Seth rarely slept with covers on in the summer, but Becky seemed to like having at least a light sheet. He wasn't sure why, because she radiated heat. When he called her the best blanket in the house, it wasn't just an excuse to get her on top of him. As he started to wake, he snuggled closer to her back, recognizing a familiar hunch to her shoulders. "Please tell me you're not on Twitter," he murmured against her neck. After his photos had been leaked a few years ago, he was far more careful about the pictures he took and the ones he let get taken of him in turn. Becky wasn't the type to take photos that could get them in trouble, but if her finger slipped and the camera went off at that moment. . . .

Normally rubbing his beard against her shoulders made her squirm, but she was clearly focused. "I wasn't allowed to show you before," she began, twisting around in his arms, "but apparently they're going to officially release the image today, so. . . ." Becky held her phone out to him. "What do you think? First WWE star on the cover of ESPN Magazine."

_Boots._ That was Seth's first coherent thought when he was able to focus on the photo filling the screen of Becky's phone. She was posing in a wrestling ring with an actress—someone from _GLOW_ , he thought, but he couldn’t recall her name—and Becky looked stunning as always, but his gaze kept dropping to the boots. "Are those boots yours?"

Becky laughed so hard she almost dropped her phone, but Seth quickly steadied it, zooming in on the picture so the other woman wasn't visible. The tight pants and top were nice too, he had to admit, and he appreciated that they hadn't air-brushed the abrasion on Becky's elbow. "That's your first comment?"

Seth reluctantly set the phone aside and kissed her, pressing her down into her pillow until she was on her back. "You look incredible, as always, and I'm so fucking proud of you." The kiss turned long and lazy, Becky's phone screen dimming and then going dark from inactivity. "But about those boots. . . ." He didn't recognize them from her closet in California, and he knew for a fact they weren't anywhere in his house.

"No, they aren't mine." Becky grabbed her phone again and quickly scheduled an Instagram post before shutting the phone to sleep and setting it aside. "Thank ESPN's styling crew."

Seth lowered his head to her neck. "Can I get you some?" he asked, pulling her leg up to his waist and running his hand from her thigh to her toes and back again.

"I don't have anything to wear with them," Becky pointed out. Most of her clothes were casual and comfortable; anything fancier tended to be picked by a stylist.

His chuckle was muffled by her neck and her arm as she held his head close. "I know," he replied, positioning himself above her.

Becky reached up and cupped his face. "So, do you feel like going to another awards show? You look awfully pretty on the red carpet."

"That depends." Seth glanced over to her phone, its screen now black. He would have to get a copy of that photo. "Are you wearing the boots?"

"No!" Becky gave his chest a playful smack. "For the MTV Awards, I probably could have gotten away with them, but the ESPY Awards have a dress code. Besides, Steph and Hunter will be there. Roman too, of course." Roman was the obvious winner for the first-ever Best WWE Moment, so Becky would be there mostly as an ambassador. 

"Sure thing. So what _are_ you wearing to the ceremony then, if not the boots?" When Becky gave him a dubious look, Seth feigned innocence. "What? I just want to make sure we look good together."

"Long dress," Becky said, laughing as his shoulders slumped slightly. "White or silver, I'm not really sure which. Sparkly. Probably going to make pictures a bitch, but whatever." She gave him another kiss before sliding out from beneath him, reaching for her phone. "I'll go call Hunter and let him know."

From that moment up until they hit the red carpet, Seth worried that he had screwed up. He hadn't meant to downplay Becky's accomplishments at all. To be the first WWE star on ESPN Magazine—especially as a woman—was monumental, and her award nomination was important too. She was finally getting recognized for her talent and hard work, both within the industry and by outsiders, and his first reaction had been to make a lewd comment about her boots. She didn't seem offended, but he would have to make sure that she really did know how proud he was. He planned on doing that on the ride, but he hadn't realized they would be travelling with Roman, Hunter, and Stephanie. 

Before they got in the car, Roman had pulled him aside. "Drool emojis, bro? Really? Your girl is the first one of us to get on the cover of ESPN. That means something."

Seth winced, glad Roman didn't know about his fixation on her boots. "I know. And she knows I'm proud of her. That doesn't mean she's not gorgeous, though." Becky's Instagram post had quickly filled with supportive comments from fellow wrestlers past and present, and seeing so many people—particularly ones he knew she admired—celebrate Becky's feat had made him ridiculously happy. It wasn't all that long ago that she had almost been let go from NXT; now she was continually making WWE history.

Roman glanced over at Becky, who was standing with Hunter and Stephanie. "She is. But if you two are worried about how people are perceiving your relationship. . . ." He shrugged and gave Seth's shoulder a brotherly punch. "Drool over her in private. Sing her praises in public."

Hunter and Stephanie came over before Seth could reply, Becky just a step behind. "All good?" Hunter looked Seth square in the eye and said, "Remember, kids: best behaviour. Save the smack talk for our cameras. Talk pretty to everyone else."

Hunter and Stephanie took the lead in most of the non-WWE interviews anyway, with Roman and Becky politely answering the standard questions most journalists asked of wrestlers; it was always easy to tell which interviewers knew nothing about wrestling. Seth was chosen to deliver the award, which was bittersweet; it made Dean's absence more obvious than ever. Then they split up a bit, fielding separate interviews, and he watched Becky handle hers with aplomb. "You're fantastic," he whispered by her ear, taking a moment to appreciate her loose curls. She had been wearing her hair in a ponytail so often latel, and it certainly had its own appeal, but when her hair was down around her shoulders, she reminded him of a phoenix.

"Thank you." Becky squeezed his hand, relaxing visibly when she realized that a WWE interviewer was next in line. The change in her posture was obvious: even there, in her sleek sparkling dress, she looked ready to square up if someone happened to challenge her. She fielded questions about Ronda Rousey and potentially trying MMA with admirable grace, looping Seth in whenever she could.

Then the interview turned to the award and the nominees, and Seth stayed in diplomatic mode. When the nominations were first announced, even though he had joked about being torn about who to vote for, the choice was obvious; everyone in WWE essentially agreed, Becky and Kofi both making sure to congratulate Roman in advance. When he mentioned four worthy contenders, though, Becky's steady glare was purely in character, and he stammered his way through a correction. "Please don't hurt me later," he quipped as the segment ended, trying to stifle his laugh.

He was surprised when Becky didn't reply right away, and she made a small gesture to the camera, specifically the indicator light. Shit. _All_ of that was on video now. Becky gave the interview crew a smooth smile and pulled Seth off to the side. "What do you expect me to do in those boots if not hurt you?" she replied under the guise of embracing him.

When Seth glanced up, he noticed Steph, Hunter, and Roman heading their way, so he ducked his head. "I thought you said the boots weren't yours."

"They weren't," Becky agreed quickly, somehow managing to look completely innocent. "But I made some calls. Turns out someone in Wardrobe has a niece who's a big fan, so I signed a few things. They should be delivered by the end of the week."

Seth apparently wasn't as hard to read, because Hunter gave him a look. "Steph, Roman, Becky, you go on ahead. I want to chat with Seth for a moment."

Becky and Roman both shared a look that reminded Seth of elementary school, when one friend would get in trouble and the others would be torn between speaking up in their friend's defence and just being glad it wasn't them. Stephanie ushered them back to the limousine, though, leaving Seth with his mentor. "What's up?" he asked, hoping his voice was level.

"Not quite your best behaviour," Hunter remarked with a tilted grin, "but at least you didn't try to sneak off with Becky, so I guess I shouldn't complain."

Lists of comments and actions whirled through Seth's head, and he was frantically trying to figure out what he had said or done that warranted being singled out. "We'll work on being more reserved in public," he chanced. 

Hunter finally took pity on him and laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. "Ease up, Seth. You're not in trouble. I just wanted to check in and make sure things are okay with you and Becky. The on-screen stuff isn't taking a toll on you two at all?"

Seth shook his head. "She's getting tired of dealing with Lacey, but beyond that, no. We know the difference between in the ring and at home."

If Hunter didn't fully buy that, he didn't let on. "That's good. I know it's a fine line. If there's something either of you aren't comfortable with, don't hesitate to let me know, okay?" He noticed that the others had stopped by the limousine, so Hunter turned to put his back towards them, hiding his words. "Listen. What goes on between you two is your business. Steph and I are open to talking about how much of it gets made public. But as someone who's had some pretty prominent public relationships in this business, can I give you some advice?"

"Sure. Please." Seth was mostly just glad that neither he nor Becky seemed to be in trouble.

"Don't screw this up. Either of you." Hunter held Seth's gaze for a long moment. "From what I can see, you're both the happiest either of you have been for a long time. It's good for you, it's good for morale backstage, and frankly it's just nice to see. As long as you two are committed to making it work, Steph and I will do what we can to give you the latitude you need, okay?"

Seth let out a long sigh of relief. "Becky was saying we should have a mixed-tag match. You and Steph against the two of us."

Hunter laughed again, patting Seth's back as they started heading to the limousine. "Might not be a bad idea. If we were playing Shane's role right now, we could totally work that in. Let me float some ideas past Heyman and the rest of Creative. . . ."

Once they were settled in the limousine, Seth took out his phone, pretending to check his texts. Instead he typed, _All good. I'm not in trouble._

Becky took his phone, deleted what he wrote, and left a message of her own, one that made the shared limousine ride seem absurdly long. _Maybe not with them. We still have to talk about that flub of yours._ She punctuated it by pressing the heel of her shoe just hard enough into his calf to make her point.


	19. Extreme Rules 2019

There wasn't a type of wrestling event that Seth didn't like. House shows were smaller and might be less important to the overall feuds, but they were also a chance for the wrestlers to sneak in some fun jokes and skits that Creative wouldn't allow on TV. Taped shows were the lifeblood, the common denominator; they were what the greatest amount of people was able to watch, so that's where the groundwork for feuds was laid. Knowing that people set aside a night or two of their week to follow along was a high compliment. And the pay-per-views were the top tier, of course, the grand stages where the big moves—title changes, betrayals, unexpected returns—played out in front of thousands in the arena and millions behind screens.

Extreme Rules, by its very nature, should have been one of the most interesting. The Royal Rumble was defined by the rumble matches themselves. Survivor Series used to have the elimination team matches, but those were getting rarer each year, it seemed. Extreme Rules, though, should have been like TLC on steroids, a chance to showcase what the wrestlers could do in a less structured environment. Mixed-tag matches were already hemmed in by the gender restrictions, but on the other hand, Seth would get to watch Becky go to work on Lacey, which was always a pleasure.

He was giving Becky a wide berth backstage while she practiced swinging a kendo stick. "I promise I won't stop you from hitting Lacey tonight," he said with a grin, remembering her common complaint about Creative's writing. "Are you sure about the bit with Corbin, though? If you're not comfortable, you can tell—"

Becky stopping swinging for a moment, letting the stick dangle from her hand. "It's fine, Seth. Corbin and I talked it over a lot and we practiced a little bit this afternoon when you were hanging out with Roman. I think it'll work really well."

Seth tried not to bristle at that, but he couldn't help it. He knew the practicing Becky had done with Corbin would have been nothing like their gorilla press attempts at Black and Brave, so he told himself it was only worry that was making him antsy. Corbin was huge and strong, and not used to wrestling women; he could easily hurt Becky without even meaning to. "As long as you're sure."

"Yeah. We had Dana record it on her phone so we could watch it back." Becky started spinning her kendo stick and promptly dropped it. "It looked really solid. And in a weird way, it was kind of fun. You know, like being on a swing when you're a kid and going up really high?"

Thinking back to the child-like joy on her face when they were trying the fake gorilla press, Seth calmed down a bit. He would feel safer if it were someone like Roman doing the move—someone he knew and trusted like a brother—but if Becky was fine with it, he had to trust her. "Well, I might be able to appreciate it as a move after the fact," he admitted, grabbing her kendo stick before she could. "But it's not going to be hard to be mad in the moment." He swung the stick lightly behind her back, catching the other end and using it to draw her close. 

For a moment, he worried that Becky would feel coddled and tell him off, but she simply hugged him, tracing the characters in his spine tattoo with one finger by memory alone. "If I can survive Nia's fist," she said, "I'm pretty sure I can survive Corbin. Any word on a cash-in yet?"

Seth shook his head. Heyman had teased one, but he had been doing that ever since Money in the Bank, so it didn't necessarily mean anything. "Haven't heard anything. A lot of people are figuring he'll go for Kofi so Brock would be on SmackDown when it changes channels in the fall. Plus that way he'd get his long weekends whenever he decides to show up."

Becky frowned as she stepped back, letting a hand linger under his ribs for a moment. "It sucks for you _and_ Kofi. I don't get why they think a part-time champion is a good thing."

"Me neither." Seth reached for her again, pressing his lips against her forehead. "So let's go keep our gold and get out of here." It was never quite that easy, but sometimes it was easier to pretend it was. If nothing else, at least he wouldn't have to deal with Corbin for a while and Becky would get to ignite a new feud and hopefully revitalize the women's division.

Without the elimination stipulation of their match with Andrade and Zelina, it was much easier to build a flow and a rhythm in the match. Watching Becky thrash Lacey with a kendo stick was delightful, and their double table jump outside the ring went off almost without a hitch. When Seth noticed a growing bump on Becky's forehead, though, he tried to pull her to the side, making it look like part of the match. She shook him off subtly, managing to squeeze his hand to let him know she was okay. At their next tag, she murmured a quick explanation. "Damn plank doesn't know how to hold on to a damn chair."

Seth wasn't so sure she was fine. Between Nia and Ronda and now Lacey, Becky had taken a lot of head shots in the past year. The match was drawing to a close, down to that fateful End of Days that he was still dreading, so he did his best to keep himself steady. As soon as the match was done, he would carry Becky to the medical area himself if she refused to go. He wasn't supposed to be watching during the attack, so he took his cues from the audience, feeling the impact of Becky's body reverberate through the ring. As he slowly rolled over and saw her sprawled, he didn't even register whatever Corbin was spewing at him. For those first few rage-fuelled seconds, it all felt burningly real. It was only when he saw a glint of genuine worry in Corbin's eyes that he reined himself back in, pummeling him as promised and maybe taking a little too much delight in his curb stomps. A quick glance told him that Becky was safe outside the ring, curled up against the barrier.

As soon as the pin was finished, Seth looked for Becky, but she must have still been huddled. Before he could go to her, though, familiar music hit like a punch in the gut. _Lesnar_. Seth glanced over at the referee, looking for any sign of verification. Creative hadn't said anything about a cash-in today, and Becky could be hurt; he didn't have the patience for Heyman's grandstanding or Brock's stupid smirk.

The referee gave a subtle shake of his head. Shit. It was a cash-in, then, and it was scheduled to be a successful one. The only mercy was that it was quick: a couple German suplexes, the F5, and then the bell. Seth was in a daze until he saw Becky stirring out of the corner of his eye. The bump on her head was worse now, visibly protruding, and she kept reaching for it. She could make fun of him for his anime eyes all she wanted, but the sheer despair in her eyes made his throat close as she hauled herself up onto the apron. "I'm sorry I let you down." The words felt like they were cracking his sternum. "I let everyone down."

Becky, wisely, stayed silent; he knew that anything she was liable to say wouldn't be camera friendly. She kept quiet until they were backstage, when she promptly turned and hugged Seth so tightly he couldn't breathe. "I didn't know. I didn't know. Creative never said anything to me. Did you know?" When Seth shook his head, she gritted her teeth and swore. "That's why they were pushing the End of Days so hard. It had nothing to do with putting Corbin over as a heel or making me look resilient or even hyping up the intergender stuff. They just wanted me out of the way so I couldn’t interfere."

Seth looked at it a slightly different way: with her out of commission outside the ring, fans wouldn't complain as much that she didn't leap in to help him when Brock arrived. "It's done." His voice sounded flat even to his ears, and he smoothed hair back from Becky's face. "We need to get you to medical, Becks. That bump's looking bad—"

"No!" Becky winced a bit at her own voice. "No! This . . . this isn't right! They've given you fuck-all for a reign and then they pull this? What are they doing? _Why_ are they doing this?" All her anger was in her voice; her gaze was still dark and despairing, and it just dug the hole in Seth's chest a bit deeper. "Is this . . . are they punishing us? For what you said about AEW and Dean and for me being outspoken? What next? Are they going to make me lose to Ronda—"

"Lynch." Hunter strode towards them with an utterly controlled expression that gave away nothing. "Get to medical."

Seth tried to grab her arm so she couldn't turn and face down Hunter, but he was still too stunned. "What the hell, Hunter? He didn't even have the belt for half a fucking year! How do you expect ratings to go up if your champion only shows up to tapings when he—"

"Rebecca." Coming from Hunter, her full name was a sledgehammer of sound, and Seth felt her stiffen up. "Go to medical and have your forehead examined."

"Go," Seth murmured, kissing the flat side of her forehead first and then the raised part, which felt worryingly feverish to him. "I'm fine. I'm good. I'll come meet you when I'm done."

"Seth." Tears finally leaked out of her eyes and she rose to give him a hard, fast kiss, glaring at Hunter as she stepped back. "This is bullshit," she hissed, "and you damn well know it." Before Hunter could call her back, she strode off towards the medical office, raising her hand to her forehead again and shrugging off Natalya's attempts to accompany her.

Seth waited until Becky was out of eyeshot before he turned to Hunter. "She's not wrong. You could have told me. I still would have hated it," he added, "but I would have sold it."

Hunter just shrugged. "That's exactly why we didn't tell you. We wanted the surprise to be genuine. Now the men's briefcase is out of play too, Becky's feud with Lacey is done, and—"

"And RAW is back to having a champion who would rather sit at home on his farm than do his damn job!" Seth's ragged breathing hissed through his clenched teeth like steam. "Why? What did I do? What _didn't_ I do? Just tell me, because you know I love this and I have done almost anything you've ever asked of me."

Spreading his hands wide, Hunter shrugged. "I'm not the enemy, Seth. I'm not the end of the line. It wasn't my call. Vince has things in motion, and—"

"Yeah. Vince." Seth rubbed his hands over his face as if he could wake himself up from a bad dream, take himself back to that morning when he woke up in Becky's bed, their belts shining on the dresser. "The fans can blame him because they don't have any power. You do. You should try using it once in a while. You've been in the ring. You know what happens to the level of competition when Brock holds the title hostage and there's no prize to fight for. This isn't going to help ratings, and it's definitely not going to entice people to stay." Hunter was speaking again, talking about changes to the storylines and upcoming feuds, but Seth strode off, heading towards medical. Hunter and the McMahons didn't deserve any more of his energy or his time. He knew there would be interviews to do, but those could wait; he needed to calm down first, and seeing Becky would be the quickest way to achieve that.

*

To hear Corey Graves tell it, Becky and Seth were going to crumble at the first sign of adversity. Becky knew that wasn't the case. They hadn't had any major fights yet—and she knew that was a big _yet_ , given the nature of their personalities—but they'd had a few bumps in the road and managed to navigate them smoothly, if slowly. Brock's cash-in had nothing to do with her and she knew it, but she had no idea how to help Seth through the shock and sense of betrayal.

She had offered to drive back to the hotel, but Seth wasn't quite dazed enough to agree to that. When they arrived, though, she had to gently take the key card from him because he kept swiping it the wrong way. "Go sit," she said gently. "I've got the bags." Seth had his own way of unpacking, so she left his bag by his side of the bed, tucked against the wall. Hers she put on the bed, opening it to get the salve the doctor had given her for her head bump. Mercifully it wasn't a concussion; if she'd had to relinquish the belt all because Lacey Evans didn't know how to drop a chair properly, she would have gone on a rampage.

"Where's your belt?" Seth came up behind her and rested his chin on her shoulder.

Becky hesitated. He would never begrudge her the belt even if he went without a title shot for a full year, but it didn't feel right to have her belt sitting out when his had been unceremoniously stolen. "It's in here," she said, shoving her ring gear down deeper to cover it. "I just needed to get the stuff for my bump—"

"Take it out." Seth's voice was soft and bittersweet, and when Becky made no move to pull her belt out of her bag, he reached around her and rummaged around her things until he could free it. "You always set it out. It helps you sleep better." Her mouth opened but all her words failed her as Seth tucked the straps in and set her belt out on display the way she always did when they were in a hotel room. "There." Then he came over and hugged her from behind, taking a deep breath that ruffled her hair. "I'm gonna go sit in the hot tub for a bit."

"Okay." There had been no flirting, no request—or demand—to join, so Becky gave him some space, going about her regular routine. Her bump was still sensitive to the touch, so she put more salve on it while Seth was filling the hot tub so he wouldn’t hear her wincing; he had enough on his mind without worrying about her battle wounds. Eventually there was nothing else to do except watch television or go to bed, and she was too wound up to sleep. She padded quietly into the bathroom and peered in, taking a moment to admire Seth with his eyes closed. He almost looked like he was meditating. "Hey."

"Hey." He opened his eyes slowly and the lingering desolation there made Becky ache. "What took you so long?"

Becky shrugged. "I wasn't sure if you wanted company," she replied, leaning against the door frame, "so I didn't want to intrude."

Seth raised a hand out of the water and extended it to her. "You're always welcome."

"Unless _Game of Thrones_ is on," she quipped, stepping into the bathroom. Seth's gaze hadn't moved away from her, so she took her time undressing; it wasn't quite a strip tease, but she put a little finesse into it. When she was fully naked and had put her hair up in a bun, Seth leaned back against the corner to make room for her, but she motioned him forward instead. "I'll get your back," she said, sneaking in behind him.

"Is the water okay? Not too hot?" Seth's voice still had a flat, drained tone, but it was slowly getting better.

"It's fine." Becky hugged him for a few long minutes, burying her face between his shoulder blades. When Seth grabbed one of her hands and raised it to his mouth to kiss, she shut her eyes against tears. At least his back was already wet; he wouldn't notice a bit more water. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Seth whispered against her palm. He held her other hand against his chest as if she were keeping him from bursting at the seams.

"You deserve so much better." She moved back just enough to rain kisses down on his shoulders. Losing a title was never easy, especially when you had only had it for a few months. Seth had fought so hard to get it that losing to anyone would have been hard to bear. To lose to Brock Lesnar, someone who barely qualified as a part-timer, must have been devastating. When Seth gave her left hand another kiss and let it go, she started kneading the taut muscles in his back; her other hand stayed over his heart.

Seth took a deep breath that echoed through Becky's hands. "They want to split us up."

Becky's sharp breath cut whatever she was about to say into tatters. "What?" The hand she had on his chest twitched, nails digging into his skin. "They . . . they can't. . . ."

For the first time in hours, Seth laughed, but it was a broken, brittle sound. "No, not like that. Not _us_. On the shows. They want to separate our storylines. Too many whiny fan complaints."

"Bastard," Becky muttered, feeling her heart lurch back into its normal rhythm. "I thought you meant—"

"Never." The vehemence in his voice cut through the desolation and Seth covered Becky's hand on his chest with his own.

A faint tremor was spreading through Becky's arms and she hoped Seth couldn't feel it. She wrapped her other arm around him to brace herself, resting her head against his back. "Too much too soon, I guess. Subtlety has never been WWE's strong suit." Then she gave him a not-so-gentle jab in the side. "Don’t you ever scare me like that again, you dope."

"Just checking that you still care." Seth leaned back into her. "Maybe I'm just replacing Charlotte as your driver since she's on SmackDown. . . ."

Becky growled against his back, smiling as he shuddered. "Look me in the eye and say that. I dare you." As ludicrous as some of their spots had been, she was already missing not working with Seth on television. There would always be haters, but she thought their spots were mostly well received overall; they certainly were at the house shows. 

Seth managed to turn around halfway with her arm still clutching his waist, and he pulled her forward so she was sitting across his lap. "I love you. I'd rather say that instead." He reached up and pushed some hair behind her ear, leaving a trail of water droplets trickling down her jaw.

"I love you too. I even love your anime eyes," Becky added with a small, skewed smile, "so feel free to bring those back anytime." She cuddled up against him and kissed his neck. "They're probably going to make me drop to Ronda then too. Natalya came to check on me in Medical and . . . well, she never outright said anything, but it sounded like something's in the words for Summerslam. I guess I should start thinking about a new nickname, huh?"

"Stop. I don't want to think about them anymore." Seth settled back against the hot tub wall and held Becky close. "How's your head? Be honest, please. Any doctor's orders you've conveniently forgotten to share?" He shook water off his hand and traced the bump on Becky's forehead. She leaned into the touch even though it was starting to throb.

"It's not a concussion. Doc just said to take it easy and take something for pain if it gets too bad." Thinking about the doctor made her think back to Hunter, and that definitely wasn't safe territory. "I'll take something before I go to bed, I promise."

"Before _we_ go," Seth corrected, kissing her shoulder. "I won't be able to sleep for a while anyway." He tightened his arms around her and let out a long breath. "I'm okay. You don't have to worry. I'm not going to snap."

"I know." Becky curled up to him as close as she could, trying to not put any pressure on her head. "I'd offer to take your mind off things with the boots, but they're back at your place and I don't think my balance would be the greatest anyway. . . ." Sometimes she worried that they fell back on sex when they didn't want to discuss something, but they always got back around to the matter at hand; it was just that the sex helped them wear off extra energy—and beyond that, it was just plain fun. She couldn't even remember how she spent her free time in hotels when she was single anymore, because she couldn't imagine not having Seth in her bed.

"Future endeavours?" Seth asked, the corner of his mouth twitching. They had turned the much-mocked corporate phrasing into their own version of a rain cheque.

"I'm going to need another pair by the end of the year at this rate," Becky smiled. "Or at least a pair to keep at my place."

Seth's fingers chased drops of water down Becky's chest to her navel, making her squirm. "I'll put it on your Christmas list."

"They're really more for you than me. . . ." The urge to push his hand down further was smothering, and she was about to fib and say she was ready for bed when she caught Seth's gaze. He hadn't regained full anime eyes quite yet, but there was enough lust in his gaze to make her shiver. "And Christmas is five months away. . . ."

"Sit up on the edge." When Becky made no move to obey, he hoisted her up there himself, spreading her legs and positioning himself between her knees.

His kisses started down by her knee, giving Becky plenty of time to protest, but it was so nice to have a sensation to focus on that wasn't her bump or her growing unease with the title situation. He was about halfway up her thigh when she put a hand on his head and stopped him. "You're the one who needs the consoling, don't you think?"

"Mm-hmm. And hearing you scream my name makes me happy." He took another kiss closer and another and another until he was only a breath away.

"I thought you were going to say something about orgasms being natural painkillers," Becky joked, voice catching as Seth's tongue flicked out.

"That too." Seth took his time, coaxing her to climax slowly so she didn't accidentally bang her head against the wall. Her second orgasm arrived more quickly, and by the time the third crashed through her, her voice was too hoarse to scream. "Come on." He gently swung her over the hot tub and carried her over the threshold into the bedroom.

"The water. . . ." Becky knew she should have protested more, but his lips were right there and they were utterly kissable, and surely the water could stay in the hot tub overnight with no ill effects. The ache in her head was a low-level buzz now, but Seth still sat her down on the bed and grabbed her pills and a bottle of water. "One," she said, as if it were a negotiation. "And only so you won't worry."

"Two," Seth countered, shaking two tablets out of the bottle and putting them in her hand. "Or else I'll be creepy and watch you sleep."

Becky made a face and dutifully swallowed the painkillers. She was a horrible patient and she knew it, and she still felt bad for not finding a way to make things better for him. The time in the hot tub seemed to improve Seth's mood somewhat, but as they curled up in fluffy bathrobes and watched random late-night television, Becky knew there wasn't much she could do aside from be supportive. She certainly didn't want to undermine him by confronting Hunter or Steph on his behalf, and she couldn't exactly challenge Brock for the belt and then just hand it to Seth either. The new day might bring new possibilities, but since this Monday would also bring Paul Heyman and Brock Lesnar, she knew those possibilities weren't necessarily in Seth's favour.


	20. Circle of Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Author Note: I wrote this before the RAW Reunion, so I didn't know how the LION KING invite happened. I could have fixed the story to fit, but I kinda like my version, and it's not like this is factually accurate anyway.)

"Don't get me wrong. A good brunch is definitely the way to my heart," Becky began, "but that doesn't mean I don't want to fight you." She smiled across the table at Sasha. Bayley was sitting between them, laughing so hard she nearly snorted orange juice from her nose. "Look. I even brought the belt to entice you. See how shiny it is? How precious?" Becky actually had her belt with her because of an appearance she was scheduled to make later that day, but she still grabbed the title from the other chair between her and Sasha and held it aloft, giving it a quick kiss. "You can't have the precious."

Sasha nearly choked on her laughter, and waited until she caught her breath to take a long drink of water. "Becks, don't even. You know I'll be back when I'm ready. And when I'm ready, I'll come for that gold _and_ that one," she declared, pointing at the RAW and SmackDown women's titles in quick succession, "and then there will be a legit champ champ."

"Sure, sure." Becky set the belt back on the chair and leaned back, sipping at her coffee. "Don't forget to bring your yoga goat."

"Come on, kids. We only have another hour before Becky has to leave, and we hardly ever get to all hang out together." Bayley glanced at the chair occupied by the belts. Charlotte had been invited as well, but she already had plans with Andrade.

Becky leaned over and poked Bayley's arm. "I know. I just keep hoping I'll convince Sasha to come back. Seriously, though, you know I mean it." She reached across the table and put out her fist to bump. "Whenever you're ready, I'm game."

"Same." Sasha winked as they bumped fists. 

"Me too!" Bayley touched fists with the other two before they could draw back. "We're like the SHE-ild!" she said with a grin.

Sasha rolled her eyes. "Great. Becky _finally_ gives up the puns, and then Bayley has to pick them up." Then she pointed to Becky's phone. "So no more puns. If we've only got an hour, I want to hear about you and Seth. Sorry some people are being so shitty. I mean, how is it that Charlotte and Andrade can post a picture of themselves _literally in bed together_ and it's okay, but you and Seth looking at each other is too much?"

Bayley raised an eyebrow. "Said by someone who hasn't been in the room when they're looking at each other. To quote Naomi, 'Whew, chile'." She mimed fanning herself. "Seriously, I don't know what those people who say you don't have chemistry are smoking, because _damn_."

"I don't know. I try not to let it get to me," Becky said with a shrug, "but there's days when it's hard. If we say something, it's the wrong thing; if we say nothing, we're hiding. You can't win."

Shaking her head, Sasha reached across the table and squeezed Becky's hand. "Fuck that noise. As long as you two are happy and you aren't hurting anyone else, that's what matters, right?" As she settled back in her seat, she said, "Bayley said he commissioned a portrait for you?"

Becky nodded, opening up her phone's photo gallery to find the picture Seth had taken of her standing beside the Eddie Vedder portrait. The only downside was that with them splitting their time between California and Iowa, she didn't get to see it all the time. "It's made up crushed-up records," she explained, turning her phone around so Sasha could see.

"It's not a ring," Sasha said, raising an eyebrow, "but still cool. Hey, your notification light is blinking. Did you miss a call?"

"Don't think so." Becky sat back and closed her gallery, then checked her notifications. She had her Twitter set up to notify her of mentions by certain wrestling journalists so she could stay on top of rumours, and she let out an Irish curse when she read the tweet that triggered the alert. "Just have to say this," she read aloud, affecting a mock serious tone, "if BeckyLynchWWE would have screwed WWERollins last night—we would have been OFF TO THE RACES." She pitched her voice extra low for the last four words. "What the fuck?"

"Seriously." Then Bayley giggled, blushing as she gestured to Becky's phone. "Have to admit, though: the pun was pretty good." When Sasha looked at her blankly, she added, " _Screwed_? It could either be 'screwed over' or . . . you know. Sex."

Cackling, Becky opened Twitter and sent a quick, two-word reply, smirking all the while. "Good one, Bayley. I'm stealing that." She knew her response would be just as open to interpretation, but that was part of the fun. Setting her phone on the table so Sasha and Bayley could read the thread, Becky hummed triumphantly and finished her coffee.

" _I did!_ Sasha and Bayley hooted in unison, grinning like fools. Sasha drummed her hands on the table as she laughed, and Bayley did a slow clap.

Becky listened to her friends' laughter for a few moments, relishing the sheer joy of it. It was an honour to be The Man and she had fun with the persona, but it didn't allow _for_ fun as much as some of her previous roles had. "So yeah," she said as if nothing had happened, "Seth and I are good."

Sasha gave her a look. " _Good good_ , you mean." When Becky didn't get the reference, she started laughing again. "Don't worry about it. I'm glad. You and Seth are welcome to visit any time. You have to meet Ryu! He's already met Auntie Bayley and he loves her."

"YES. I can see you any time when you get your ass back in the ring," Becky countered, "but if there's a new puppy I haven't met yet, that's a tragedy." When they went their separate ways after brunch and Becky went to pack for San Diego Comic Con, she noticed that her phone was pinging like crazy again. She ignored most of the generic notifications and responded to a few texts from friends, but hesitated before replying to Seth. _I really should talk with him before I respond to anything that involves us both,_ she thought.

His message had been simple, almost as short as hers: _Really?_ followed by a wide-eyed emoji and a heart.

_Well, if you don't want me to. . . ._ she replied, ending it with the shrugging emoji. She wasn't at all surprised to hear her phone ring a second later: Seth's response was one he probably wouldn't want committed to print. For the first time in weeks, they were going to be apart for a while and it was going to feel strange to not have him at her side all day—or in her bed at night. Dating a wrestler certainly had some hassles, but regular sex was a definite plus point.

And it wasn't as if she were alone at San Diego Comic Con. Rey Mysterio was there during her signing, and then there was the panel with Rey, Kofi Kingston, Zack Ryder, and Curt Hawkins; of course Xavier Woods was there, since he probably would have found a way to go even if he weren't scheduled. The aura of fun and geekery was a nice respite from the negativity WWE was getting, and she told Kofi so as they were strolling through the convention with their escorts. "This is such a change from all the toxic stuff on Twitter."

"Careful or you'll start to sound like Sami Zayn," Kofi joked. "Nah, I know what you mean. It's nice to be around fans who aren't nitpicking every little thing." Then he froze, eyes wide. "The Iron Throne!"

"What?" Becky glanced around the aisle but only saw various props set up for photo opportunities. "What are you talking about?"

" _Game of Thrones_ , baby!" Kofi grabbed Becky's hand and dragged her over, making their security detail divert without notice. 

"So shouldn't there be more than one throne?" Becky asked. She knew Seth loved the show, but she had never watched much of it. Having grown up in Ireland, castles and swords and royalty didn't have the same novelty for her that they seemed to have for Americans.

"Go! Go sit!" Kofi urged her, taking out his phone. "Seth will love it!" The set was currently closed, but the person in charge noticed their security detail and welcomed them all in.

"Okay." Becky didn't see the appeal of a throne made of swords aside from the obvious symbolism, but it would be a nice picture to send to Seth, at least. They had both vowed not to send each other nudes, given his unfortunate history with them, and they made sure their texts were tame as well. Something like this, though, would appeal to him without being potentially troublesome. "But I'm taking my belt," she added as she sat down. The throne was too large for her, of course, and it probably made her look like a child in her father's seat, but it would make Seth happy. Kofi took some pictures, as did the WWE photographer, and then they switched places. While she had tried to look somewhat bad-ass on the throne, Kofi was grinning like a kid. "Will you send me those photos so I can send one to Seth?" she asked him. Then she turned to the photographer and asked the same thing. "I'd like to post one on Instagram."

"Sure," the photographer said. "I'll get them cleaned up right away and I'll forward them to you."

That gave Becky time to think of a suitable caption, and she tried to spin it more towards WWE, not mentioning _Game of Thrones_ at all. She couldn't help a subtle jab at the naysayers, though she knew it would just make them louder and more obscene. Silence wasn't the answer either, though; she wanted it known that the haters wouldn't stop her. While she waited, she did her interview with Noelle, which would probably get her in more trouble. Noelle asked if she had the Seth Rollins action figure and Becky, thinking back to her brunch with Bayley and Sasha, candidly replied, "I play with the real thing all time!" She almost regretted it, but that interview would have a smaller reach than her tweet did.

As soon as the WWE photographer sent her the fixed photos, she picked her favourite, attached the caption, and posted it before heading out for coffee with Kofi and Xavier, who insisted on going back to the Iron Throne for more pictures. "Hey, Becks. Seth replied to your post," Kofi reported, showing her the picture on his phone. "You know what _Khaleesi_ means, right?"

Since it was one of Seth's safe words, Becky had to force herself not to answer right away. Best to keep it vague. "More or less. It's one the words for _queen_ or something, isn't it?" She rolled her eyes so Kofi and Xavier wouldn't read too much into her bland response. "That means there's going to be a cascade of _But Charlotte's the real queen!_ comments."

Kofi kept scrolling through his feed, but Xavier didn't look convinced. "If you don't watch _Game of Thrones_ ," he said innocently, "how would you know?"

"Because it's bloody everywhere, Woods. I've seen it on mugs and bookmarks and it's apparently one of the most popular baby names for girls." Becky stopped herself there. Bringing up the topic of babies was not going to help her cause.

"Khaleesi Quin-Lopez," Kofi said with a slow nod. "I dig it."

Becky faked a cough so she had an excuse to look away. Pregnancy was still one of those nebulous topics they kept meaning to talk about but never did, but there was no way in hell that she would name her daughter the same thing as one of Seth's safe words. She would never be able to say the name without blushing furiously. "That sounds like a baby for Miz and Maryse," she countered. "Way too fussy for me."

Under the table, she tapped out a quick text to Seth. _Khaleesi? Really?_

_I thought you appreciated a good double meaning, Ms. 'I did',_ he replied with a winking emoji.

_Careful_ , she replied, _or I'll make you say it to my face._ Kofi must have asked her a question, because he was looking at her expectantly, so she apologized and asked him to repeat himself as she covered her phone with her hand.

She glanced down when her phone pinged. Another short message followed by a red heart: _Challenge accepted._

*

Could you have too much of a good thing? Whenever people asked that, Seth always thought they were crazy. Obviously it didn't apply to something like food, where an excess could make you sick. For something like music, though, he loved to surround himself in it; most of his collection was digital or on CD, but he had plenty of records and cassette tapes too. Even in his idle moments, he was usually listening to something; he couldn't imagine not having music in his life, just like it was hard to picture a day without coffee. Or, increasingly, Becky.

Some of his exes had accused him of being needy. He figured it stemmed from spending so much time on the road: when he was home, of course he would want to spend as much time with them as he could. Becky didn't seem to mind, even if it had taken her a little while to get used to his habit of casual touching; she had assured him it was only because her previous boyfriends weren't into it, and it hadn't taken her long to reciprocate and even initiate it. It made him ridiculously happy when she would lean on his shoulder or wrap her arms around his waist. The height difference didn't always make it easy, but if anything, she seemed to have a slight height kink, so it all worked out.

She loved him. He knew that. So why was he overanalyzing photos and the comments to them? The picture in question was one taken at Black and Brave; he didn't even remember seeing the flash, which annoyed him a little bit. He knew that he was a celebrity of sorts and with that came a certain lack of privacy, but when he was at his wrestling school, he considered himself a teacher first. He didn't want to dread every time he saw one of his students reaching for their phone when was at the school.

_She looks bored,_ one commenter said. _She's probably just tired of Seth dragging her everywhere_ , said another. _Maybe he hasn't made her a sandwich yet,_ one joked. Seth looked at the photo again and tried to see _bored_ or _tired_ or even _hungry_. Judging from the assembled students, he had a rough idea when the picture was taken, and he and Becky had just eaten an hour before, so the joke post was moot. Becky had a busy schedule, so she was always a bit tired; it came with the territory. Bored? He didn't think so. If he had to pick a single word, he would have chosen _intent_. She was focussed on the action in the ring, as she should have been. What did people want? If she was hanging off his arm, people would have complained that they were too sappy. If they sat too far apart, the 'no chemistry' movement would pipe up again.

When Becky walked into his living room, trying to adjust her baseball cap as she walked, Seth set his phone aside and rose to meet her. "If you were anyone else," he grinned, "I'd accuse you of raiding Mickie James's gear closet." Becky made the bright white bell bottoms and matching halter top look amazing, though. "Not sure white is the best choice for a baseball field, though."

Becky wrapped an arm around his neck and kissed him. "Well, there's that whole 'no white after Labour Day' thing, so I guess I have to wear it while I can. Plus you're the one playing, not me." Then she stepped back, smoothing hair away from his forehead. "What's wrong? You were so worried about being early so you'd have time to practice, and you're still where I left you." He had offered to help her get the tight-fitting bell bottoms on, but they both knew how his attempts to get her dressed usually ended up. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his phone screen start to dim and she grabbed it before he could stop her. "Bad news?" she asked as the screen came back to life.

"It's nothing." Seth didn't try to grab for the phone, though. Becky would see the comments eventually, or someone else would tell her. "Just stupid people being stupid." He hated watching the light dim in her eyes as she read the comments and critiques, the way her jaw went from framing a glorious smile to almost steeling itself for a blow.

"You know I wasn't bored, right?" she said softly, wrapping her arms around his waist and looking up at him. "You were there. You know I wasn't bored or tired or hungry, right?"

"Right, but—" Seth watched as Becky shut his phone off and tossed it onto the sofa.

"As long as you know," Becky continued, "and I know, it doesn't matter who else knows. Right? They aren't here. They aren't in this relationship. Whatever they think, whether it's good or bad, really doesn't matter. That's what you tell me all the time, isn't it? When I'm worrying too much about the 'stupid Twitter machine'." She laughed as she made air quotes. "That makes you sound like a bitter old grandpa, by the way." She shook her fist and added in a croaking voice, "Goddamn youths today and their blasted Twitter machine! In _my_ day, if you wanted to talk to someone, you had to walk ten miles to their farm, and then they might not even be home and you would have to walk all the way back too!"

"Okay, okay." Seth let his mind drift for a few minutes, happy just to kiss her and tease the bared skin at her midriff and back. "I just don't want you to get sick of me."

"I'm not, and I won't be," Becky promised, stepping back a bit. "It's not like we're literally spending every second together. I mean, if you start asking to watch me pee, then we might have some problems, but otherwise we're good. You still do stuff with your friends, I do stuff with mine, and we both visit our families too." She frowned a bit as she added, "But that goes for you too. I know I can be a lot to handle in large doses—"

Seth kissed her again, hard and hungry, sweeping her off her feet and spinning her closer to the door. He hated whoever had made her feel like she was too loud, too brash, too much. "I've never had a problem saying when I want some space. You know that." He set her back down and tugged her hat before grabbing his phone. "Oh, I almost forgot. Foley called me while you were getting ready. He wanted to know if we had time to hang out when we were in Raleigh." Thinking about the call pushed the negative comments about Becky further back in his mind. "Even said he'd be a chaperon so we didn't get ourselves in Twitter trouble."

Becky laughed at that. "Yeah, no shortage of Dads around this week after RAW Reunion, huh? Sure, sounds good. You've got my schedule and I don't have anything extraplanned, so let me know when you start making plans. Now go get dressed." Becky flopped down on the couch and took her phone from her purse. "I'm just going to call Sasha quickly to see when we can visit her new puppy." She paused with her finger on the screen. "If you want to go, that is. She invited both of us to visit, but—"

"Of course I want to." Seth leaned over and kissed Becky's head before heading down the hall. Then he called out, "You can visit with Sasha, and I'll get to play with the dog!" That set Becky off on a tirade, her Irish lilt a soundtrack in the background as he changed into his honorary baseball jersey. "Ready to go?" he asked as he returned. "Marek hasn't called, so I'm guessing we're still picking him up on the way."

"All good." Becky tucked her phone back in her purse and followed him out to the SUV. Baseball wasn't really her sport and he knew it, but he and Marek were only expected to stay for the first part since Seth and Becky both had to be in Raleigh the next day.

At the baseball field, Seth gave his fanny pack to Becky for safe keeping, which made her laugh. "You already wear a man-bun. Embrace the man-purse," she said. "You'll have more room."

"There's already one man-purse in my house," Seth replied, pointing at Becky's. "I wouldn't want us to get our bags mixed up, you know."

"Sure." Becky found the spot cleared for the celebrity guests near the dug-out area and sat to watch him practice. Seth wasn't particularly worried about screwing up, but just knowing she was nearby—even if she was likely to heckle him—was reassuring as he did some practice pitches. He would glance back at her every once in a while, and more often than not she was watching him, and would duck her head in that adorable little way that made it look like she had been caught doing something she wasn't supposed to. The last time he glanced over, she was on the phone, laughing at something the other person had said, and he assumed it was Sasha. Becky and Charlotte might have been best friends, but there was something to Becky's bond with Sasha that was even fiercer. Was Sasha's invitation to come meet her new puppy really just an excuse for her to grill him about his feelings for Becky? He wouldn't put it past her.

Like so many celebrity appearances, the preparation for the event seemed to take forever while the actual moment came and went in a blink or two. As soon his name was announced over the PA, Seth did the obligatory wave. Someone in the crowd shouted 'I love you, Becky', and Seth swore he could hear Becky's trademark chuckle all the way from the field.

Marek got talking to some old friends and said he would catch a ride home with one of them, so Seth and Becky were able to sneak out early. "Did you make plans with Sasha yet?" he asked as they left the baseball field.

Becky shook her head. "I wanted to check with you first. I'm jealous that Bayley got to meet the puppy first," she muttered. "He's so cute!"

"I'm sure he'll love his auntie Becky just as much," Seth teased, patting her leg. "That's the red corgi, right? How could he not love you? You're from the same part of the world and you have the same colour hair."

"Ha." Then Becky shot him a smug smile. "I called Mick while you were practicing, by the way, and asked if he had any ideas for what to do when we were in Raleigh." 

Judging from her smile, Seth was sure he was either going to hate it or be indebted to her forever. "And what did he suggest?"

Becky's laugh turned the smile into an outright grin. "He must have heard the interview I did with Noelle, because he suggested seeing the _Lion King_ remake." Her laugh almost turned into hiccups.

Seth shook his head. " _The Lion King_? Seriously? Is he going to sit between us too?"

"Nope." Becky sounded sure about that, at least. "I'm sitting in the middle so I don't have to share my armrests," she declared. 

"That makes you the designated popcorn holder, you know," Seth replied. "That's the job of the person in the middle."

"As long as you stick your hand in the bag and not . . . anywhere else." Becky leaned back against the headrest and chuckled again. "Does he really think we're that bad in public that we have to go to a children's movie so we'll behave?"

"Nah. And it'll be fun. It's been a while since I've seen a movie in a theatre anyway." At a red light, Seth glanced over at her and gave her smile that made her blush. "And then when we get back home, we can catch up on our bad behaviour."


	21. Another Ambulance

Seth should have known something was up when he and Becky arrived at the arena and were directed straight to Creative. Every wrestler they passed coming out of Creative either gave them a sideways glance or avoided looking at them all together. "Did you post something on Twitter again?" Seth asked. He was trying to keep his spirits up, but he knew Becky would catch the wariness in his voice. "Because if we're fired, they could have just called us at home and saved us the trip. . . ."

Becky shut her eyes and sighed. "I'm not in the mood for Ronda today," she muttered. "Wondering which of her two facial expressions she'll use is too much suspense for me."

Seth pulled her closer, chuckling into her hair. "Don't forget how she was learning judo in the womb or some shit like that." He still hesitated in front of the door labelled Creative, though. "You ready?"

"Yeah, might as well be." She gave Seth a look when he held open the door for her, but went through anyway, kissing him on the cheek as she passed him. "Hey, Hannah. What do you have for us? Everyone who's walked past us looks like they're going to a funeral."

Hannah was the longest-serving intern in Creative and she got along well with everybody; that was why the higher-ups in Creative usually left her to deliver the bad news, hoping it would soften the blow. "Sorry," she said simply, handing papers to Seth and Becky. "For what it's worth, I wasn't working on your segments tonight."

"No hard feelings," Seth assured her. "You're just doing your job." The room held two tables, now mostly cleared of scripts, and a scattering of chairs. Seth and Becky sat in ones near the door and started paging through. "Andrade's not going to win the gauntlet match. Charlotte will be pissed."

Becky only shrugged. "But Maria's winning the 24/7 Belt? WWE's women making history again, I guess. I should go after her and be Becky Two Belts again." When she got to her highlighted segment, she rolled her eyes. "For fuck's sake. This is damn cliché bingo. Alexa fakes an injury. I beat Nikki and then get double-teamed." She followed the arrow to the next page. "But wait, there's more!" Her fake infomercial voice, coupled with her accent, never failed to make Seth laugh, and he quickly paged ahead to catch up with her. "Make that triple-teamed. Almost. I guess Nattie's at least going to wait until they've done their worst. Very sporting."

Seth read further down. "At least you don't tap to the sharpshooter," he pointed out. "And you get to ambush her 'earlier today', which will probably be about five minutes from now."

Becky bumped his knee with hers. "Is that a hint? Fine, fine, I'm reading." Then she jabbed him in the side. "Oh, look! Cole calls you my boyfriend again! The cliché bingo players are going to have full cards tonight." She set her script aside and slumped in her chair. "I'm so tired of all these juvenile storylines they're giving the women. Fake friendships! Hurt feelings! We aren't in fucking school anymore."

While Becky ranted about the petty angles the women were getting, Seth also skimmed ahead, hoping to catch anything worse before she did. He was going to have a spot with the Street Profits, which should be fun. His match against Dolph should be good too, nice and athletic; the fake-out with Shawn Michaels's music would rile up the crowd, and then—

Shit.

Seth shut his script as quickly as he dared, trying not to attract Becky's attention to it. "Hey, Becks. You should go find Nattie and get ready for that earlier-today spot. There's only a few hours before she show starts."

But Becky wasn't buying it. Sitting back, she eyed him suspiciously. "What is it? What haven't I got to yet?" She turned to reach for her copy of the script, but Seth reached across her lap and grabbed it. "What is it?" she repeated, more worried than annoyed this time. "Hannah, what's he going on about?"

The intern chanced a look at them both and clearly decided that Becky's temper was the more formidable foe. "Lesnar's going to be here."

"No," Becky said flatly, shaking her head. She had left her now-standard ponytail out—Seth distracting her and almost making her late might have had something to do with that—and her fiery curls only served to highlight her anger. "No. They can't take SummerSlam away from you. And then we have that week off at the end of August for Finn's—"

Seth cut her off with a kiss that went so long that Hannah politely excused herself and snuck out of the office, though he didn't doubt she was just outside the door; she wanted to give them privacy, but she also valued her job, so she wouldn't stray far from her post. "It's fine," he told her as he smoothed her hair back. "Typical Lesnar beatdown. Suplexes, F5s, chairs. You know the deal."

"Another ambulance?" Becky asked pointedly, reaching over to pat his ribs. "He hurt you last time, Seth. Maybe not bad enough to keep you in the hospital, but enough to send you there, and that's bullshit. If they gave RAW to Paul just so he could let his brute bulldoze everyone, what's the fucking point?"

"Becky. . . . " Seth tried to distract her with another kiss, but she was getting too worked up, sliding back from English to Irish as her eyes flashed. " _Rebecca_ ," he said at last, keeping his voice clipped. He almost never called her that at any event; it was her real name, something shared—if not completely private—and for at home. But it was the only way he could think of to get through to her. He slid a hand around the back of her head and forced her to look at him. "I'll be all right, okay? Don't worry. But I need you to promise me that you won't try to interfere, okay? _Please._."

Her brows pinched a bit, as if someone had jabbed her. "What, I'm not 'Girlfriend in Ambulance' in Act 5?" Becky tried to grab her script from him, but he had set it behind him, out of her reach; the few remaining scripts were on the desk, which was too far away. 

Seth took a moment to respond. His heart had sunk as he read through his scene. If Becky had been mentioned, it would have meant a short attack—still brutal, but down and then done. His script outlined a multi-wave attack, complete with chairs and stretchers. He trusted that safeguards would be in place, but he knew it would be hard for Becky to watch. "No," he said simply, "you're not." He knew he should have lied to her or at least tried to soften the blow, but he couldn't think of anything to say.

" _No._ " He wasn't sure if it was tears or anger making her eyes bright now, and Seth hated seeing either there. "Seth, this is bullshit! Heyman can't possibly think—"

There was a sharp knock at the door and then Hannah poked her head in. "Sorry, guys, but they need Becky to go down to the ring so they can film that ambush on Natalya. . . ."

"Go." Cupping her face, Seth gave Becky a gentle kiss before standing and drawing her to her feet, only handing her script back once she was halfway out the door. "And please promise me you won't do anything stupid."

"This is bullshit," Becky repeated, wiping her eyes angrily as she stormed away.

Hannah crept back in the room. "I really am sorry," she said softly. "I wanted to text you to warn you, but they monitor our work phones, so. . . ."

Seth just shook his head. "No worries, Hannah. It's not your fault." He rolled his script up into a tube and thumped it against his leg. "You have a good night."

"You too," she replied reflexively. "I mean. . . ." But Seth was already heading out of the Creative office and looking for Roman. His Shield brother might not be the best person to ask, especially since he had Samoa Joe and ambushes of his own to deal with that night, but the group of people he trusted didn't have a lot of overlap with the group of people Becky would listen to. 

When he finally found Roman, the Usos were there too. So much the better. "You guys saw this?" Seth asked, disdain dripping from his voice. He hadn't even read it in full, but what he saw was bad enough; he didn't imagine he would get to have a miraculous recovery and curb stomp Brock onto a cinder block.

"Yeah. It's bullshit," Jey said. Jimmy just shook his head.

"Guess it's Heels' Night tonight and we just got the memo," Roman remarked, shrugging into his shirt. "And the same fans who complain about him being a part-timer are going to be the ones chanting _one more time_."

Seth twisted the script in his hands like it was a wet rag, almost ripping it before he realized what he was doing. "Listen, I . . . I know I shouldn't be asking this, and she'll be pissed if she finds out, but can one of you look out for Becky tonight? Not during her spot, I mean, but when Brock's here. She is super pissed and I'm worried she's going to go off-script and do something stupid and dangerous, and if Brock—" All his words jammed up in his chest. What he read about his own fate was bad enough. He didn’t even want to think about how badly Brock could hurt Becky. Lesnar wasn't exactly known for listening to instructions and stopping when people were legitimately hurt.

But Roman knew, of course. He had similar fears whenever his wife or daughter came to a pay-per-view. No matter how much you told your loved ones that you would be okay, seeing blood tended to flip a switch in people's brains. "We've got her," he said with quiet assurance as he gave Seth a hug. "We'll make sure she's okay." Then his mouth twitched in a one-sided smile. "Of course, the fallout of that is on you, because I'm definitely not saying it was my idea."

Jey and Jimmy both shook their heads emphatically. "Hell to the no, bro," Jimmy added. "Trust me, Naomi has made me learn my lesson."

Seth let out a long breath. "Thanks, guys. I appreciate it. Really. I know she's a professional and all, but. . . ."

Roman gave him a brotherly punch in the shoulder. "But she loves you," he replied, "and that can override her common sense." Then he gave Seth another look. "Besides, she's getting her own ambush tonight. Do we have to make sure _you_ don't run out there?"

Laughing, Seth shook his head. "Nah. Becks can handle some bumps and bruises. If there were chairs and blood. . . ." As much as he wanted to say otherwise, he knew it would be hard to stay in the back if he knew Becky was legitimately hurt. "Yeah, I'd be pissed. But me running to her aid still looks different than her coming to mine."

"True." Roman glanced over to the intersecting hallway and grimaced. "There's Heyman," he said, clearly unimpressed. "You should go talk with him."

Paul Heyman was the person Seth wanted to see the second-least; the absolute least was obvious. But Heyman was also the only person likely able to put his fears to rest, and if he could be assured, maybe he could help Becky calm down. If not, it was going to be a very long night.

*

"This is bullshit." It had been Becky's mantra of the night, and she had lost track of how many times she had said it at least an hour ago. When Corey Graves of all people came up to her and said that what was going to go down was insulting and dangerous, that was saying something.

"I know." She had lost track of how often Roman had said that as well. After her beatdown and ambush, she had to go to Medical for the regular check-up. After that, though, Roman or the Usos were always curiously close by, sometimes with Naomi as well. She saw through the act straightaway, but their company was steady and comforting, so she didn't complain. Much.

"I don't trust him, Roman." Becky tugged at her ring gear. As soon as she had been cleared, she wanted to change into street clothes so she'd be able to go to the medical facility that much faster, but the doctor had told her to stay ring ready; when she asked if that meant she would be allowed to intervene, no one would give her an answer. "I don't trust Brock and I don't trust Paul. And I hate that, because I thought Heyman was going to be better." She laughed bitterly at her own naivety. Of course Heyman was going to clear-cut the way for his beast to have everything he wanted. "Better never means better for everyone," she quoted grimly. "It always means worse, for some."

Roman slung an arm around her shoulders. "What's that from? One of your Pearl Jam songs?"

Becky snorted softly. " _The Handmaid's Tale_. It's how they try to justify everything. Just like here." She gestured all around them at the cameras and wires and equipment trunks. "Anything for ratings, right? Never mind if it leaves your top talent bleeding."

"Seth is the best of the best, Becks. He knows how to take his bumps." Then he leaned his head against hers. "You know he asked us to watch out for you. I won't even try to lie about that. But it's not just to keep you safe. It will help keep him safe too."

"How will _none of us helping_ keep him safe?" Becky's glower was starting to etch itself into her brow, but she didn't care.

"Because if he's not worrying about what Brock might do to _you_ ," Roman countered gently, "then he can concentrate on keeping safe. It sucks, I know."

"Places for the ambulance, everyone!" a tech yelled, sending people scattering. When there were live cameras in the back, most of the wrestlers were supposed to be out of sight. "Places!"

Becky winced when she saw the stretcher being rolled into the gorilla position. Part of her had wanted to watch Seth's match with Dolph—at least up to the beating—but Roman kept her far away from any monitors; the Usos were currently on lookout, preparing for their own mini-beatdown alongside Roman by Samoa Joe and Gallows and Anderson. Becky was scheduled to encounter Seth on the stretcher, but strictly forbidden to interact. "Roman, I don't like this."

"I don't either." Roman shook his head and looked over to his cousins. "It doesn't feel right. I know they're trying to go edgy and all, but . . . I don't know. I've just got a bad vibe."

"Don't say that." Becky had been trying to tap into Roman's strength, but if _he_ thought there was something to worry about. . . .

Another tech rounded the corner. "You're all up soon." Becky noted that the tech would barely look at her, let alone meet her gaze; word of her displeasure was spreading. "Remember: no one's cleared to interfere."

"Watch my foot clear your ass," Becky muttered as the tech scampered away.

"C'mon, Becks." Roman stood and helped her to her feet. "Sooner we get this done, sooner we can make sure our boy is okay for real."

"I know." Her stomach felt cold and hollow as she went to her assigned place. She tried picturing it from the audience's point of view and it felt stupid. Why would she or Roman just watch the stretcher go past? Why wouldn't they accompany him in the ambulance like she had earlier in the year, or at least follow in a car? Keeping her face mostly turned from the camera, she mouthed 'I love you' as Seth was wheeled past, but she couldn't tell if his eyes were open; she couldn't see past the blood smeared around his mouth.

When Samoa Joe, Gallows, and Anderson began their ambush, Becky stayed out of the way as scripted, trying to catch glimpses of the ambulance lights as they left the arena. But she could still see the back end of the truck and then—

No. Lesnar at the doors. Lesnar yanking the stretcher out and Seth unbuckling himself just in time. Lesnar picking Seth up and—

"Girl, no." Naomi's voice was soft so she wouldn't be picked up by the cameras, but her hands on Becky's shoulders were firmly steering her away. "There's nothing you can do that will improve this situation. Let's go."

Becky winced as she heard Seth's body dropped onto the metal frame of the stretcher. "Naomi, I can't. . . ." Every time he retched, it felt like her guts were being shredded. That particular sound wasn't an easy one to fake.

"There's one more segment, remember? Samoa Joe and Roman, and then my boys and Gallows and Anderson? Seth will be taken to a medical facility." Naomi hugged her tightly. "Let's go find out which one and I'll drive you there."

It wasn't until they were halfway to the offices that Becky remembered she was still wearing her ring gear. "My bag." 

"Already in my car, baby." Naomi chanced a smile. "I want to be an auntie to those redheaded babies with a blonde streak, remember? You're not getting any babies from Seth if we don't make sure he's okay."

Normally Becky would have shot down the baby conversation, but her mind was whirling. "I need water too. A snack?"

Naomi nodded, never breaking her pace. "I already raided Catering. I've got us water bottles, some muffins, and a couple apples. I'll grab you something better at the hospital."

"Thank you, Naomi." Becky felt like she was going to vomit, but she kept it together until they reached the main office. When Hunter turned the corner, Becky stormed right over to him, going on tiptoe to glare at him. "Where are they taking him?" For a wild moment, she wished he was Paul Heyman so she could wrap her hand around his tie and beat him to a pulp.

"Becky, calm down." Naomi hissed audibly at that, but Hunter continued on. "I will talk to Paul and Br—"

"Don't say his name. Do not." Becky's fists felt like they were turning to stone. "Which facility is Seth being taken to?"

Hunter glanced over at Naomi. "Are you staying with her?" When Naomi nodded, he took a deep breath and rattled off the name of the hospital and the best way to get there. "Will you at least change out of your ring gear?"

Becky just glared at him steadily, so Naomi pulled her away before she could say or do something that would get her in trouble. "Her bag's in my car. Jimmy knows we're going; he and Jey and Roman are going to meet us there when they're done. I'll make sure she changes when we get there." When Becky turned her glare on her, Naomi stayed firm. "Becks, they'll still be examining him when we get there. You won't be able to see him right away. You can spare five minutes to get your fine Irish ass into some jeans and a tee, okay?"

"Fine," Becky seethed, returning her unblinking gaze to Hunter. There were no words she could find to convey her utter disgust, though, so she let Naomi lead her away. In the car, she reached for a bottle of water, but her hands were shaking too badly to open it. "Fuck," she whispered. "Does it feel like this when you see Jimmy get hurt?"

Naomi kept her gaze on the traffic ahead, but she patted Becky's knee. "He's never been hurt by someone like Lesnar," she began, "but yeah, when it looks real . . . it _feels_ real. No matter how much we know better, no matter if we've gone through something similar ourselves. When you see it happening to someone you love, it's different." She set a travel pack of tissues on Becky's lap. "Just cry, Becks. You'll feel better. If you keep holding it in, your jaw is going to be sore and you'll get that nasty lump in your throat."

"Can I scream instead?" What Becky really wanted to do was take a chair to Brock's stupid block head, but that would never happen. The company paid him too much and for some reason considered him a draw.

"Whatever you need, girl. Just . . . you know, maybe warn me before you scream so I don't get startled and hit something," Naomi added, relaxing once she saw the hospital Hunter had named. "There it is. After we've parked, just grab your bag and head in. I'll take care of the rest."

"Thank you, Naomi." Becky leaned over and hugged her as she pulled into the hospital parking lot, nearly making her veer into the curb. "You're the best."

"Anytime. I know you'd do the same for me, and if Sasha or Bayley or Charlotte had been here, they would have done this too." Naomi parked and shut off the engine. "Go on. I've got this. I'll meet up with you inside."

Becky nodded, feeling like a bobblehead, and grabbed her bag, choosing to carry it rather than pull it behind her on its rickety wheels; with her luck, the axles would probably pop out. When she stepped inside, she started towards the administration desk, but caught someone walking towards her out of the corner of her eye. Luckily for him, it wasn't Paul Heyman. It was a WWE representative, though, but she couldn't remember his name. "Hi, Becky. I'm Henry. Seth is still getting scans and all that, but you're welcome to wait in his room. He's in 729." He tried not to smile as he added, "And change into street clothes if you can, just so we don't make a scene."

"I know." Then she gestured to the door. "Naomi's coming. She's just paying for parking. Will you direct her to the room?"

Henry nodded. "Of course. I'm almost done the paperwork and then I'll join you."

Since Becky was in a rush, naturally it felt like the longest elevator ride of her life. She was just glad no one on the elevator seemed to recognize her; if they were staring, it was likely because of her strange outfit and wild hair. Maybe they thought she was a prostitute. She didn't care. As soon as the elevator reached the seventh floor, she pushed her way off and started looking for signs. "Room 729?" she called out, feeling tears threaten again. Everything was too loud and too bright and she felt like she was about to implode. "I'm Becky—"

A middle-aged nurse hurried out from behind the desk and ushered her down a hallway. "This way. Henry told us to expect you."

"Thank you. My friend Naomi will be up in a few minutes." Becky kept thanking the nurse as she guided her to the private room, and she didn't even bother going into the attached washroom to change. Once she was dressed again, she took a long swig from the water bottle—how she had kept hold of it, she had no clue—and pushed her bag off to the side before pulling a chair close to where the bed would be. At the moment, the room felt curiously empty. When she pictured a hospital, she thought of beeping machines, the soft hush of oxygen bumps, the rustlings of sheets and scrubs and patient gowns. 

"Hey, girl." Naomi came in with a bounty of vending machine snacks. "Thought you might need the sugar rush." She pulled a chair over to sit by Becky, patting her back. "I called Jimmy and he said the three of them are on their way. I let them know the room number so they could come right up. I don't know how many of us they'll let stay in here, but—"

Becky turned in her chair and hugged Naomi fiercely, trying to ignore the hot, angry tears streaming down her face. She would rather they come out now than when Seth was brought in. He certainly didn't need her being a wailing mess. When her sobs subsided a bit, she sat back, mopping at her face with a tissue. The hospital-issue ones were too thin, though, and they tore almost instantly. "This is bullshit," she repeated, heading to the attached washroom to splash water on her face. Her reflection in the mirror was haunted and stricken, full of wrath. It wasn't what Seth needed to see.

Paul Heyman and Brock Lesnar, on the other hand, were going to see a lot of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Author's note: This is all I have for now, though I am working on another scene. If you don't mind werewolf AUs, though, I have two coming up with Becky/Seth that you might like!)


	22. "Sorry about your ceiling"

"You know, I never thought anyone could make those novelty tuxedo shirts look cool," Roman said, standing beside Becky as they watched the trailer for the WWE 2k20 video game. The final edits had just been completed and since they were the joint cover stars, Hunter had arranged for them to see the finished product before it was officially released. 

Becky laughed, rewinding to the part when she broke through the glass ceiling, her favourite scene in the commercial; antagonizing Hogan, however, was a very close second. "Shows what you know. They've always been cool. Maybe I should wear one to SummerSlam. . . ."

Roman rolled his eyes. "Great. Now I'll have _another_ shirt to add to JoJo's wish list. Seriously, Becks, half her closet is just your merch now."

"Better start working on filling up that other half then." Becky couldn't stop smiling. Earlier in the year, it had been rumoured that Hulk Hogan was going to be on the cover of WWE 2k20, so while being the cover star of a WWE video game had been on her wish list of things to accomplish, she figured it wasn't going to happen this year. Then the bosses had called her into the office to let her know. When they asked if she would be upset at sharing the cover with Roman, she had burst out laughing. Roman was an all-round good person both in and out of the ring; who wouldn't want to share the spotlight with him? "Some leggings based off my Wrestlemania gear would be good."

A knock on the door made them both turn, and Seth stepped inside the office with a big smile, bumping fists with Roman before going over to Becky. "Hey. Hunter said I could get a sneak peek too." When he reached for the remote control in her hand, though, Roman grabbed it first. "Hey, bro. What gives?"

Roman gave a small shrug. "I don't know, man. You two haven't been on screen together much lately, so I don't want you to get jealous or anything. I mean, we do make a pretty good-looking pair. . . ." When Seth went for the remote again, Roman easily held it out of his reach. "Plus my daughter already adores her."

Narrowing his eyes, Seth shook his head and went back over to Becky, hugging her from behind. "And what about your wife?" he said pointedly.

"Galina loves her too," Roman replied with an easy smile. "She keeps getting on my case, asking why I haven't brought you two down to visit the family. Well, more so Becky than you." He paused just long enough to laugh. "But she knows you two are something of a package deal now. C'mon, Becks. We've got the good weather, just like your California and, you know, _not Iowa_." Roman looked directly at Seth as he said the last.

"Some of us like having _seasons_ ," Seth countered, resting his head against Becky's. "Are you going to let me watch the commercial or not?" His words ruffled the hair by her ear.

"I'm not the one with the remote," Becky replied. Leaning back against Seth, she relaxed a bit. Around Roman, at least, they didn't have to worry about being too physically affectionate. "Let him see the party he missed," she said at last, "or he'll sulk all day."

Roman raised an eyebrow not unlike that of his famous cousin. "I'm pretty sure you have your ways of getting him out of a mood, but fine." He turned up the volume before restarting the video.

Becky stayed quiet as the commercial played. There wasn't much dialogue in it, but she was more interested in Seth's reaction this time around. His arms tightened around her a fraction as her character broke through the glass ceiling and dusted herself off, but he relaxed enough to chuckle when she dropped her morsel in Hogan's glass. "As if you'd apologize for that," he said.

"I know, I know." Then Becky glanced over to Roman. "What's the champagne like in Florida?" she asked as they clinked glasses on screen. "It's been a while. . . ."

Roman just grinned. "Let me know when you two finally decide to come visit," he replied, "and I'll make sure we have some good stuff."

A knock on the door made them all turn, and a cameraman poked his head in. "Sorry to interrupt, but Vince and Hunter want to talk to Seth."

Seth's arms went slack around Becky's waist, but he still kissed her before he left. "Don't worry. It's just about Lesnar. I'll catch up with you two later."

"If I don't sneak her off to Florida first," Roman replied. He stopped the video after Seth left and motioned to the door. "Have time for a stroll?"

Becky eyed him suspiciously. "Why do I feel like this is setting up another brotherly lecture?"

"Because it is? I never said I was subtle." Roman held the door open for her and gestured to their left. "I have a daughter approaching puberty, man. I don't have time for subtlety anymore."

"Poor her." Becky laughed when Roman shot her a look. "Well, she's got a wrestler for a dad. Dating's going to be hard because you're going to scare everyone off."

"Exactly. Until she's thirty-five." Roman tried to look stoic, but he couldn't stop smiling.

"Thirty-five?" Becky echoed. "You were married before then! You were a father _way_ before then." Then she raised an eyebrow. "Ah, I get it now. You're going to tell me I have to wait until I'm thirty-five to date Seth, aren't you?"

Roman's laugh filled the corridor. "Hell no! First of all, I'm pretty sure he would kill me, because it already took the two of you how many years to get your acts together?" Then his smile shifted into a smirk. "And good luck getting either of you to wait another two or three years _now_."

Becky whistled innocently as they walked. "So when is the brotherly lecture going to start? Just so I can start paying attention and all. . . ."

"Smart ass." Roman bumped her with his shoulder. "Okay, maybe it's not so much a lecture as a check-in, I guess. I just wanted to see how you guys were doing. I know people said and wrote some pretty harsh things when you two were feuding with Lacey and Baron, and that shit can get to you after a while. . . ."

"And now that we _aren't_ plastered everywhere, people assume we've broken up." Becky felt her mood dip and she struggled to keep smiling. It wasn't Roman's fault that Creative's take on their relationship hadn't gone over well. She certainly hadn't expected their storylines to intersect forever, but she missed the little backstage segments; they were on the road so often that official footage was often all they had of their time together. "But we're good. We try not to take any of that too seriously. The dirt sheet writers and all of those people—they don't know us, right? So they aren't worth our time." A hint of her smile came back as she added, "As Seth reminds me of quite often."

Roman looked pointedly down at her left hand. "No ring hiding anywhere?" When Becky gave him a playful shove, he held his hands up in surrender. "Hey, no pressure, no pressure. I just want to make sure I haven't missed out on anything."

Becky shook her head. "You dope. You'd be one of the first to know. Hell, Seth would probably ask you for advice, so you'll probably know before I do." For an insecure little moment, she considered asking Roman if he would give her a heads-up if Seth _did_ say anything to him, but she stopped herself. That wouldn't have been fair to Roman and if—she kept stressing the _if_ to herself—Seth proposed, she wanted it to be a surprise. "So no, you haven't missed any new developments."

"Still bouncing between Iowa and Cali?" he asked as they rounded a corner.

"Depending on where the next shows happen to be, yeah. Usually more Iowa." Becky let out a sigh before realizing how it might sound to Roman. "I like his place. Don't get me wrong. It's just that sometimes it all feels like . . . playing house, I guess? We spend so much time on the road that it's not really like living together."

"Really? I would have thought it would be even more like it. I mean, in the hotel rooms, there's not much room to have any space away from each other unless one of you leaves, right?" Roman pointed out. The road crew were approaching from the other direction, rolling some lighting rigs down the aisle, so he and Becky both stepped aside to let them pass. "And you work together—sure, not on screen so much anymore, but you two are still spending most of your time together. And that's not a bad thing." He gave Becky a gentle nudge before she could protest. "You two started out as friends. That's good. A lot of the awkwardness is already out of the way, which helps. You've already met each other's families, for the most part. . . ."

Becky pinched the bridge of her nose, leaning against the wall. "You sound like you're reading off some relationship milestone checklist or something. . . ." She would be lying if she said she hadn't gone through a similar list in her head. There were some so-called milestones she and Seth had already reached in six months that she hadn't in a previous two-year relationship. Was it just that she was older now, supposedly wiser and more ready to commit? She didn't think so. There was something about Seth that was comfortable—not in the easy, passive sense, but in the way their lives and dreams fit together.

"I'm just trying to remind you that you've already gone through some of the hardest parts, that's all. There will be more to come—there always will be," Roman cautioned, "but it's easier together, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is." Becky took a deep breath and let Roman envelop her in a huge hug.

"Good," he replied, voice rumbling through his chest to her jaw. "Because I already have three kids to worry about. I can't be fretting over you guys all the time too!" When Becky lifted her head to glare at him, he gave her chin a playful shake. "Careful. You don't want to ruin that jawline with too much frowning. You'd make the internet sad."

Becky rolled her eyes. "Which contingent? The ones who think I don't deserve Seth? Or the ones who think I talk too much? The ones who think I've lost my edge? Or—"

Roman muffled her with another hug, kissing the top of her head. "Who is this imposter? Where's the Becky Lynch who broke through a glass ceiling and dropped her cookie in Hogan's drink and clinked glasses with me?" He stepped back before he smothered her. "Did you get some of that glass in your brain or something?"

"Ha ha." Becky gave Roman's shoulder a small shove and smiled. "But now I'm definitely going to get a tuxedo shirt for JoJo. What size does she wear?"

Shaking his head, Roman stepped back. "What's that? Oh, sorry, man. I gotta go. I have to talk to Hunter about this whole 'attempts on my life' storyline. . . ." He was walking backwards and not in a hurry, smiling all the while.

"Fine!" Becky hollered. "I'll just call Galina and ask!"

"Do it! _Please!_ " Roman spread his arms wide as he laughed. "She's just gonna ask when you're coming to visit and then at least I won't be the one getting grilled about it!"

Becky watched him leave and took her time before moving on herself. Creative hadn't done her and Seth any favours, and she knew they would never be able to win over everyone, but as long as they had friends like Roman on their side, the rest was just noise she had to learn to tune out.

*

"Well, that wasn't our best night," Seth remarked after they had watched the highlights of the RAW episode that had just finished not even an hour before. Becky had been tagging with—and predictably abandoned by—Charlotte against Natalya and Trish Stratus, culminating in a pre-SummerSlam beating. Later he had hobbled out to confront Brock Lesnar and endure yet another mauling of his own; his impassioned vow to win back the Universal Championship hadn't moved the audience as much as he had hoped.

Becky was sitting back against him, half asleep if the laxness in her shoulders was any indication, and she reached up to toy with his hair. "But on the bright side, your hair was amazing. All those curls. . . ."

"Spoken like someone who's never had naturally curly hair," he laughed, nuzzling her hand.

"Oh, shut up. Your curls are lovely." Becky twisted around just enough to kiss him. "I should get some sort of clause put in writing that says you have to leave your hair down and dry more often." After a moment, she added, "And you have to stop attacking Lesnar, because I don't care what Creative says or what Heyman says, I don't trust him not to seriously hurt you one day."

"And what kind of writing would this clause be put in, hm?" Seth shut his eyes and rested his head against hers. "A pre-nup?" Before Becky could reply, he reached for his tablet. "How tired are you?" he asked, pressing the power button.

Even though her eyes were half shut, Becky's voice was still clear. "I won't turn into a pumpkin yet," she replied. "Why?"

"Remember that interview I did just before the ESPY Awards?" At the time, Becky had joked that Hunter must have scheduled it so that Seth couldn't distract her while she was getting ready, and it had made them both wonder if their frantic quickie before the MTV Awards earlier in the season had been more obvious than they thought. "It's going to be posted soon," Seth continued, opening a video file. "And since I got to see your commercial early, I thought it was only fair to give you the chance—"

Becky grabbed the tablet from him, turning so that she could wrap an arm around his waist and tuck her head under his chin. "I'm awake enough."

Seth tugged the tablet back and adjusted the volume. "The first bit's just about my childhood and stuff. Nothing new to you. We can fast forward if you want—"

"Nope." When Becky snuggled in closer, focussing on the screen as the interview began, Seth smiled into her hair. Most of the early interview was all things Becky had probably known even before they started dating, but she seemed happy to listen to them again. Around the twenty-minute mark, though, she flinched a bit. "Ah. 'Power couple'," she echoed. "That always bodes well for us. . . ."

"Just listen, Irish." Seth reached over to the bedside table and grabbed his tablet stand, setting it up on the bed so he could wrap both arms around her.

To her credit, Becky did listen for the first minute or so, but then she poked him in the ribs. "So I didn't look good enough for you to date before?" she quipped. 

Seth quieted her with a kiss. "That's not what I meant and you know it. Now _listen_."

With a sigh, Becky settled back, and he could feel her blush spread as he talked about how they met, how they started dating, how he felt about her. "Well," she managed as the interviewer moved on to talking about the ESPY Awards, "I guess you're forgiven."

"Good." They both were quiet through the most of the middle of the interview, murmuring things back and forth. When he was detailing his average weekly schedule, they both laughed. "Yeah, I know. That's a _good_ week, right?"

"These days, yeah." Becky stretched out her legs a bit, careful not to hit the tablet stand.

"Last question," Seth said, pointing at the clock at the bottom of the player.

"That's not ominous at all. . . ," Becky chuckled. He could feel the tension starting to settle into her shoulders, making her stiffen up a bit against him. "I know, I know: _Just listen_."

 _It hit me really hard earlier this year when I fell in love with Becky._ Seth was surprised that he was the first to take a deep breath. After all the vitriol that had been aimed at them online, he knew Becky was wary about discussing their relationship any further; in fairness, the interviewer had offered to leave it off the table, but Seth couldn't imagine talking about his year and his growth without mentioning her, especially since she was so instrumental to both. _I started to look forward to the second half of my life._

Becky made a strangled little sound and waved at the tablet. "Pause it," she mumbled, turning around to hug him and bury her face in his shoulder. " _Pause it_."

With Becky squeezing him, it took Seth a moment or two to pause the video, and he dragged the progress bar back to the start of his _Are you happy?_ answer. "There's more, you know," he said gently, stroking her back. He could feel hot tears against his shoulder as Becky sank into him and he stayed quiet, rocking her gently.

She shook her head. "I can't see. I'm crying, you dope."

Seth laughed warmly and kissed her head. "Just listen, then." He jacked the volume up so Becky would be able to hear, even with her face pressed to his chest, and took the video off pause. _And all these things I thought I never really was interested in—like being married, being a husband, having kids—started to feel like options for me in the future._

"When I can see past all these stupid tears, Colby Lopez, " Becky cursed, "you better not be holding a ring, _I swear_." She grabbed the edge of the blanket and dabbed at her cheeks. "I'm going to tell Roman you made me cry." She was laughing as she said it, though.

"There's no ring, I promise." It felt like an odd thing to be telling someone you loved, but very little about their relationship had been typical. "And don't tell Roman, because I've had enough beatings this past week or so."

After she had composed herself a little more, Becky finally raised her head. Her face was splotchy and tear-stained, her eyes wet and reddened, but the sheepish little smile on her lips meant everything to Seth. "At least you didn't call me your better half," she quipped weakly.

"Like I said, I've had enough beatings this week." Seth kissed her softly and swiped his thumbs across her cheeks. The video had already stopped and the tablet screen was starting to dim from inactivity, but neither paid it any mind. Listening to the interview again had taken Seth aback as well; he had sounded so confident, looked so content, and those were things he had always struggled with. How strange, then, that it took a fellow wrestler to help him see—and not only see, but look forward to—a life outside the business he loved so much and had focussed on so completely for his entire adult life.

Becky sat back a bit and stroked his beard. "You promise there's no ring?"

Seth held out both hands to show they were empty. "Not today." Then he grinned. "I can't make any promises about tomorrow, mind you. . . ."

"You're horrible." Becky fell back against his chest, smiling as she sniffled. 

"Are you going to tell Roman that I didn't give you a ring now too?" Seth smoothed hair away from Becky's damp face. He knew how much she hated crying, so he tried to not dwell on it.

Becky just shook her head. "No. Because then he'd probably just call you a dumbass and take you ring shopping. Same with Naomi." She was quiet for a long moment before she pulled him down into a kiss. "Thank you, by the way."

"You could have led with that," Seth grinned, "instead of calling me horrible or threatening to tattle to Roman."

"And you could have been less goddamn sweet," Becky countered, her sternness somewhat undermined by her residual sniffles, "but here we are."

Seth wrapped his arms around her and brought her close. "Here we are," he agreed.


	23. SummerSlam 2019

Second only to Wrestlemania week, SummerSlam was the most intensive time of the year. The signings, appearances, meet-and-greets, and other functions all took more time than the actual events, and the wrestlers barely had time to sleep, let alone work out and get prepped for their matches. So naturally that was when Xavier decided to hold another UpUpDownDown tournament. "Seriously, man?" Seth rubbed at his eyes as he entered the green room. SummerSlam was in Toronto, so it only one time zone off Davenport; there were no unusual customs or foreign languages to worry about either, but he was still exhausted. His Chronicle filming had just finished, at least, so he would have a sliver of privacy back.

Becky tossed some candy from hand to hand, trying to look innocent and failing miserably. Seth was convinced you couldn't have a jaw line as sharp as hers and look angelic. "You could always forfeit," she suggested with a small smile. "I mean, no one's saying you have to compete."

"You're just saying that because you don't want the competition," Cesaro countered, squeezing a stress ball to exercise his fingers.

Glancing over at R-Truth, Becky shook her head. "I know I don't stand a chance at beating Joe. The 24/7 title, though. . . ." She shot R-Truth a wicked grin that made him scoot back in his chair and hide the belt behind his back. "I mean, if Kelly Kelly can win it and Maria can win it, I think my chances are pretty darn good."

"You stop thinking that way about my baby," R-Truth demanded. "Kelly Kelly was . . . she was wearing a bikini, right? That's distraction techniques right there. And Maria had help from her baby. Two against one? That ain't fair. Everyone knows those stem cells give you an advantage."

Leaning back in her chair, Becky laughed. "It's Irish green, though, Truth. It's meant to be. I hardly got to be Becky Two Belts long enough to get my t-shirt worn in."

Seth nudged Becky's chair to the side to make room for his own. "Nope. It's time for Seth Two Belts now," he declared, cracking his knuckles in preparation. "This belt today and the Universal Championship at SummerSlam; I have it all planned out."

Xavier shook his head as he went to the gaming room to double-check all the connections. "That has no ring at all, dude. None. You need a better name."

"Well, I'm going to be in the tournament until the end," Seth replied, "so I have plenty of time to think of one." Smirking, he leaned over and kissed Becky on the cheek. "And after you're eliminated, you can start thinking of one for me too."

Cesaro laughed as Becky edged her chair closer to his, mock glaring at Seth. "Right now, I think 'Seth Who Sleeps Alone' might be the front-runner." Laughter and low hoots erupted all around them until Xavier poked his head in and shushed them all before starting the official live feed and setting the stage for the tournament.

Becky was the first called into the gaming room and Seth tried to give her ass a friendly pat, but she easily dodged him, all without spilling a drop of water from her glass. AJ Styles was next, followed by Cesaro and then R-Truth, 24/7 belt in hand; if they were relying on a webcam like Xavier had said, the screen wasn't going to be able to fit them all pretty soon. Seth was called last—or second to last, once Xavier had remembered Baron Corbin was there as well. Even though Seth sat right behind Becky, she made a show of mostly ignoring him until the game play began and they had to switch seats.

As Seth predicted, Becky was eliminated in the first round. She enjoyed video games well enough, but she wasn't very good at them. As she shuffled out of rotation, she leaned over his chair and whispered, "If you win that belt, I'm totally stealing it. No shame."

"You can try." Seth tilted his head back for a kiss. "But first you can think of a name—"

"No." Becky was laughing as she said it, though, and she gave him a quick kiss before moving to the back of the room to watch the rest of the matches. She was the only woman in the tournament, but it didn't seem to bother her; she got along well with everyone there, even Corbin, and in no time at all she was commiserating with the other players who had either been defeated or hadn't played yet.

By the time Seth made it to the final round against Samoa Joe, he felt like his thumbs were going to fall off, but the prospect of having more belts than Becky and teasing her about it was far too tempting. "I'd make a joke about pressing buttons," Becky whispered against his ear before giving his shoulders a quick massage, "but I don't want to share that with the rest of the class."

Well aware that he was on camera, Seth settled for twitching an eyebrow and promptly refocused on his match against Joe. Who ever thought arm wrestling was a good video game anyway? After what seemed like an eternity of button mashing, he was finally victorious, though his shoulder muscles were disagreeing—loudly. Not long after Samoa Joe knelt and passed the belt on to Seth, R-Truth made a hasty retreat. "I saw you eying my baby, Lynch," he said, pointing at Becky. "You never know who might be a ref in disguise." He glanced around at the other competitors as if any one of them might be wearing a referee's jersey under their street clothes. "I'm getting outta here."

Becky gave a mock pout. "But my Red misses her twin. Having a younger cousin to play with would make her feel better." Then she turned to Seth. "I suppose that one will do," she added, grinning as she pointed at the UpUpDownDown belt. "Even if it does look like the feral love child of the Divas belt and the Hardcore Championship."

"Blasphemy!" Xavier bellowed. The live feed was already cut, but there was still plenty of equipment to disconnect. "U2D2 is a glorious product of the aesthetic of the 1980s, widely considered to be the best decade in the history of humanity, _thank you_."

Seth rolled his shoulders back and forth, trying to loosen them up. "Good games, everyone. See you tomorrow." He tried to put an arm around Becky's shoulders, but it hurt to raise it that high. "Please tell me our hotel room has a tub."

Becky tugged on the strap of the UpUpDownDown belt, pulled it out of Seth's hands, and cradled it to her chest. "I can carry that for you." It should have been a sweet, considerate offer, but Seth recognized the glint in her eyes all too well. 

"You know that whole 'Possession is nine-tenths of the law' thing isn't literal, right?" Seth settled his arm around Becky's waist as they started making their way back to their suite.

She simply gave the belt a gentle pat. "But look, she likes me. You can have her back after I win the 24/7 Title. Sound fair?"

Seth laughed, pulling her closer to him and almost knocking off her baseball cap. "You know as soon as you would get the 24/7 Title, it would be as good as mine. I have no problem keeping your shoulders down for three seconds."

"You'd need a ref, though," Becky pointed out, "and I'm pretty sure WWE cameras have to be there, so sex doesn't count." She gave the belt a kiss before rising on tiptoe to kiss Seth as well. "So let's get U2D2 back to meet her cousin, and then we'll see what we can do about your shoulders. You're not going to be able to beat Lesnar if you can't move from the waist up."

Seth was too sore to argue, and the prospect of a massage—and everything that usually followed—in a hot bath held more allure than basking in his victory. He could reclaim his belt tomorrow; he would just have to keep it locked in his bag over the weekend so Becky couldn't adopt it as her own.

*

In some ways, SummerSlam felt like Wrestlemania turned upside down. Becky had the first match on the main card, while Seth would be in the main event, and though her wait wasn't nearly as long as his had been in April, at least now she could understand—and more importantly, believe—that Seth hadn't minded waiting for the main event. Her match with Natalya had been utterly refreshing after months of feuding with Lacey Evans, and it wasn't just because of the respect factor; Natalya might not be incredible on the microphone, but she brought skills and experience in spades, and their history added a bit of heft to an otherwise rushed feud.

The spectre of Ronda Rousey, though, was looming, especially now that Heyman was at RAW's helm. Becky was half surprised that the match with Natalya wasn't just a cheap way to have Ronda make her return, and she kept waiting for Ronda's music to hit even as she was making her way up the ramp. As she passed Paul Heyman in the back after she had finished her promos, she started to turn and confront him, but someone grabbed her arm and steered her away. "Hey, Becks. Don't kick his ass just yet. He's a Becky Lynch guy, after all." Roman smiled down at her. "Seth's in a meeting, so I thought I'd bug you for a bit. Vince is still deciding whether I'm going to have a spot tonight," he explained.

The thought of one of the biggest stars _not_ having a match at a major pay-per-view seemed ridiculous, but Vince had been making a lot of strange decisions as of late. "Sucks if you don't," she replied, giving him a quick hug before they continued on. With her official work done for the night, there wasn't much for her to do aside from watch everyone else's matches; having Roman for company would be a nice way to distract herself from worrying about what Lesnar might do later.

Roman just shrugged. Maybe it was his battles with leukemia or simply his nature, but he always seemed to take things in stride. "It would be nice to have a match," he agreed, "but I like just hanging out backstage with everyone too. After the Wild Card rule is abolished, I won't get to see my RAW buddies as much." He slung an arm around her shoulders. "Unless they'd finally get their asses down to Florida. . . ."

"You know what it's like trying to get time off when you're a champ." Becky mock-staggered under the weight of his arm. "Why do tall people have such heavy arms?"

"What happened to Becky Two Belts? My girl used to have a title on each shoulder and she never complained." Laughing, Roman steered her towards an empty sector of the viewing area. "And it's not my fault short people make such good leaning posts."

Becky laughed too, reaching up to squeeze his hand before they both sat in a quiet corner. "I guess my shoulders could use the practice. I'll either have to win the UpUpDownDown belt from Seth or the 24/7 Title from . . . whoever has it this minute."

"Or you can find a tag partner and go for the Women's Tag belts," Roman pointed out, stretching out his long legs. "You and Naomi would be a good fit."

"You mean the woman who's constantly telling me to get pregnant?" She said it with a smile, though. Ever since she became The Man, Becky had felt a chill between her and a lot of the other female wrestlers, but Naomi had never stopped being her friend. 

Roman smiled and put his arm around her shoulders again. "You know she means it with love. She wouldn't say if she didn't think you and Seth were good together." His gaze dropped to Becky's hands for just a second, but it was long enough that she caught it—or it had simply been happening so often that she was watching for it now. "Sorry, sorry. It's a habit. I figured with all the scrutiny you two got, you might try to do things quietly. Just do some Justice of the Peace thing and then have a big party later."

Becky was quiet for a moment. What Roman had described wasn't far off what she might want for a wedding, in all honesty. All the pageantry could look beautiful, she had to admit, but it wasn't something she needed. She would rather have the main moment be just for her, her spouse, and close family. It was bad enough that people knew how to look for evidence of marriage licenses online; she wanted to preserve what privacy she could. "Even if you couldn't be there," she assured him, "we would let you know."

"I don't know, man. You two are cagey. For all I know, you've been married for months and just aren't wearing rings." He knocked his knuckles on her shoulder and added, "You're not cringing when the subject comes up anymore, though. That's good. Have you two discussed anything?"

Watching people come and go from the viewing area, Becky shook her head. "Not in any formal sense, no. But we watched his interview with Ed Mylett together, and. . . ." She trailed off with a shrug, trying not to tear up again. Hearing that you made someone look forward to the second half of their life was a deeply humbling thing; she couldn't think of anyone she had dated other than Seth who could have made her feel that way. 

"And." When Roman repeated it, it didn't feel like a question or a prompt, just a spectrum of possibilities. "Cupid's been busy in WWE this year, it seems: you and Seth, Charlotte and Andrade, Carmella and Corey. . . ."

"Maybe someone's spiked the water," Becky chuckled, leaning against him. It wasn't the same as cuddling with Seth, of course, but it was comforting all the same. "You hanging around for the main event?"

"Of course. Watching Lesnar lose is one of my favourite things, and it's even better when it's my brother doing it." Roman straightened up a bit, but kept his arm around Becky's shoulder. "Have you heard any more about another all-women's event? JoJo's demanding to come if there's one."

Becky shook her head. "I haven't heard anything. Rumours are that Vince doesn't think it would work without Ronda, which is bullshit." Sighing, she glanced up at the screen and watched the current match for a few moments. "But Crown Jewel is going ahead, of course."

"And on Halloween, I think. Go figure." Then Roman laughed. "If I were still here, we could do a tag-team costume. You could be Mera and I could be Aquaman. You've got the hair; I've got the tattoos."

"What about Seth?" As if she had conjured him, Seth turned around the corner, waved, and headed towards them. 

Roman watched Seth approach and smirked. "If he did the bratty blond hair again," he said, "he could be Orm."

Seth mustn't have caught everything Roman said, because he sat on the other side of Becky and shoved at Roman's arm. "What could be warm?"

"Florida." Grinning, Roman rose and winked at Becky. "Great place for a vacation, and we've got plenty of space. Just saying. Well, if the Beastslayer's done talking with the bosses, then that means they should have some time for me. Maybe I'll have something to do tonight other than haunt Catering. Catch you both later. Good luck tonight, bro." He bumped fists with Seth and headed toward the offices.

"So what were you two actually talking about?" Seth asked as Becky adjusted her chair so she could lean on his shoulder instead. "I'm getting the feeling that _Florida_ is really a secret code you two have for something." Leaning close, he dropped his voice to a high-pitched whisper and added, "You better not be holding a ring, _I swear_."

"Don't you _even_." Becky poked him in the ribs. They had time off at the end of August and she was trying not to overthink what might happen. "I can still tell Roman you made me cry, you know." She feigned rising from her chair, but Seth quickly grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back down. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

Seth rested his chin on her head and let out a soft breath that ruffled her hair. "Have you come up with a better name than Seth Two Belts yet?" he asked. "Because the clock's ticking, you know."

"Nope." Becky slid a hand under his shirt and rested it just above his hip. "Because your belt is bigger and you only really need one, so I'll take the UpUpDownDown belt off your hands. You know she gets along really well with my Red. And I wouldn't want you to overexert yourself, you know, not when our vacation is so close. . . ."

"Giving up on the 24/7 Belt so soon?" Seth teased.

"Between your Chronicle and mine," Becky replied, letting her eyes drift shut, "I've had enough of cameras following me everywhere for a while." Now that she thought of it, she hadn't had her regular post-match snack. "Roman thinks Naomi and I should go for the Women's Tag belts."

"You could." Seth pulled her legs over his lap. "Get them before Charlotte does and make her mad that she's the only Horsewoman who hasn't held them. But then you could also be the _first_ Horsewoman to have the 24/7 Belt. So many decisions," he teased, laughing as he smoothed out some wrinkles in her shirt. "You know all the belts are staying home when we're on vacation, right?"

Becky rested her chin on his shoulder, letting it dig in just a bit. "But I'm used to waking up to the sunlight glinting off my title plates. I don't want to have to set my alarm. . . ."

Laughing, Seth kissed her forehead. "I'm sure we can find something else that's shiny."

Before Becky could counter or even really be sure she had heard him right, Bayley hopped up behind them, nearly strangling them both with a happy, sweaty hug. "The twins are still in the same stable!" she declared, planting a sloppy kiss on Becky's head.

"Maybe Becks should leave Red with you while we're on vacation," Seth replied as he reached up to give Bayley a congratulatory fist bump. "You wouldn't mind belt-sitting, would you?"

Becky piped up, of course, refusing to pass off her title so easily, but instead of worrying about what she might have to leave behind when she went on vacation, she was more preoccupied with what she might be bringing back.


	24. Cat and Mouse

"Hey, did you know that Sasha dyed her hair bl—?" 

Seth didn't get to finish his question, though, because Becky covered his mouth with both hands. "Don't tell me," she said. "We're avoiding each other until I go out to confront her. We don't want to mess with the energy." He had suggested sitting in the viewing area while she was waiting for her cue, but Becky had steadfastly refused.

"That sounds like the whole 'it's bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding' thing," Seth replied, pulling her hands off his face so he could kiss her.

Becky was laughing as she broke the kiss. "Don't worry. She's already married." Chuckling, she buried her face in his shoulder. "Oh, your _face_ just then. . . ."

As she passed by, Dana Brooke couldn't help giggling. "You don't have to worry about Becky leaving you for Sasha. Charlotte, maybe, but not Sasha."

"Thanks for that, Dana," Seth called out as she kept laughing on her way to Catering. "That's very reassuring."

Before Becky could reply, a backstage crew member hurried over to her. "You're up in five."

"Thanks." Becky gave Seth a parting kiss and squeezed his ass for good measure. "See you in a bit. And don't worry about Charlotte. From the way she talks about Andrade, I doubt she's trading in her papi any time soon."

"That's totally reassuring too. I appreciate it. Really." Seth pointed back at the viewing area. "I'll just hang back here and talk with Roman and remind him that he's _my_ friend and find out what all this clandestine 'Florida' business is about." As he raised his hands to make air quotes, he almost hit a passing intern. "Please say it's nothing to do with Big E."

That earned him one of Becky's booming, unbidden laughs, the ones he loved most because it meant he had managed to take her by surprise. "Fuck no. The next time WWE goes to Ireland, I'm warning my ma so she can go on vacation." Then she gave Seth a wink that made him laugh because she usually ended up closing both eyes instead of just one. 

Roman wasn't in the viewing area, so Seth settled in on his own, watching Sasha return to a huge pop from the audience. It was business as usual, with Sasha comforting a grieving Natalya, but then there was the cheap shot and the wig was off, unveiling the newly blue hair he had been trying to describe to Becky. After Sasha got a decent beating in on Natalya, Becky ran down to confront her, and even on screen, Seth could tell how much going up against one of her fellow Horsewomen transformed Becky.

Sasha was slated to get the better of Becky in the spot, so Seth did his best to watch the chair shots with an open mind, but some of them seemed awfully close to Becky's head. "Tables have turned, huh?" He looked up to see Sami Zayn standing behind him. "Now you know what she felt like watching you get pummeled by Lesnar."

Seth hadn't thought of it that way. Lesnar was always something of an unknown quantity; Sasha, on the other hand, would never deliberately hurt another competitor, especially not one of her fellow Horsewomen. "After the concussion last year. . . ." He didn't bother to finish. Sami knew how devastated Becky had been about missing her singles match with Ronda Rousey, and the worry of another concussion always loomed large, especially after some of Lacey's stiff punches.

Sami clapped him on the shoulder. "I know. But we gingers are tough—including the dyed ones." He winked at Seth—an actual wink, not like Becky's adorable attempt—and moved on to sit by Braun Strowman.

As soon as Sasha started heading up the ramp, Seth rose and moved towards the aisle. Maybe it would make him look like an overanxious boyfriend, but he didn't care. As soon as he spotted Sasha's bright blue hair, he walked towards her; she probably had promos to do, but those could wait for a minute. She slowed when she saw him and he wondered what his expression looked like. "Hey, Rollins." She held up her hands in surrender. "I know that one shot went a little wonky, but Becks said she was good."

Seth let out a puff of breath and rubbed at his eyes. "Thanks. I know you wouldn't . . . yeah. You know." Trying to describe the gauntlet of feelings he had just gone through was too difficult, so he just shook his head. "Welcome back, by the way. Back with a vengeance."

"You know it." Then Sasha flashed him a wicked grin. "You're welcome, by the way."

"For?" Seth's eyebrows dipped as he frowned. "For beating my girlfriend with a chair?"

"Weren't you the one who said she gets a little feisty if she hasn’t had a good fight?" Sasha's eyes had a devilish glint to them. "You've been letting her top you way too often, I think."

Seth's eyebrows rose so far and so quickly from the frown he was surprised he didn't pull a muscle in his forehead, but Becky's arrival spared him from having to think of a reply. "Welcome back, Sasha." Even though a referee was trying to herd her towards Medical, Becky stopped and hugged her friend.

Sasha pushed hair out of Becky's face to examine her forehead. "Sorry about that one. I didn't get you too hard, did I?" After planting a kiss on Becky's temple, Sasha pulled her back into a lingering hug. "God, woman, did I miss you!"

"Same." Becky let out a long breath and shut her eyes as she wrapped her arms around Sasha.

Still speechless, Seth watched the two long-time friends melt into their hug, murmuring and laughing as they swayed in place. Then he realized how long it had been since she had been around one of her fellow Horsewomen. Her feud with Charlotte had been last fall, and then she had been out for the early part of the year. Wrestlemania was a blip, and then Charlotte and Bayley were both on SmackDown. Over on RAW, Becky was the odd woman out—until now.

Sasha noticed him struggling to speak and she laughed. "I was just telling Seth he's been letting you top him too often." She smiled as she took a step back, but kept her hands on Becky's shoulders. The referee hovered at the edge of their reunion, but obviously wasn't in a hurry to interrupt them. "God, you're such a bottom for me, Lynch. _Fight me, Sasha._ " She raised her voice to a high, plaintive whine. " _Sasha, come fight me._ "

"Better than posting about butterflies," Becky countered, glancing over at the waiting referee. "I missed you, you dope. Let me go to Doctor Jail here quick and I'll catch up with you after." Then she seemed to remember Seth and she gave him a kiss. "Both of you."

"I'll go with you," Sasha offered, looping an arm around her waist. "I'm sure Vince will have some words about my chair work. Later, Rollins."

Seth watched the referee sigh with relief, probably glad that he hadn't had to force either woman along, and Sasha and Becky followed behind him, arms around each other's waists as they talked. Even as she minded her head, Becky was more animated, more enthused with her storyline than she had been for a while, and Seth understood why. Charlotte was her best friend and their long-simmering feud brought the best in both of them. Ronda Rousey might have lacked charisma, but her star power buoyed her along, and that coincided with Becky becoming 'The Man'. Even her brief battles with Asuka had been underscored with respect. Then Lacey Evans had killed much of her post-Wrestlemania momentum and Natalya had essentially been a placeholder. A feud with Sasha, though, would have almost the same amount of emotional baggage as her battles with Charlotte had, but heightened by blistering attacks, both personal and physical. Becky would be pushed to her limits, but that was when she shone the most, and he couldn't wait to see it. It would be a wonderful way to cap off one year and start the next.

"Earth to Rollins!" Judging from Roman's amused tone, he had been trying to get Seth's attention for a while. "What's this about Becky topping you too much?"

"Don't you start too." Now that his brain seemed to be forming sentences again, Seth shook his head. "Not unless you're going to tell me what 'Florida' is code for."

Roman looked genuinely confused. "No code, man. I just want to hang out with you two outside of an arena, that’s all."

Seth nodded slowly, then motioned for Roman to walk with him. "Well, if you've got a couple minutes, I need some advice. . . ."

*

"Three titles? Seriously?" Becky finished tying Seth's wristbands, tapped them for good luck, and sat back. The UpUpDownDown belt was back in Davenport, but the Universal Championship was sitting beside her on the bench. Now Seth was saying he and Braun Strowman were slated to win the RAW Tag Team Titles later that night.

Seth gave a small shrug. "Well, you and I couldn't come up with anything in place of 'Seth Two Belts'," he reminded her, kissing the top of her head, "so maybe three will work better?"

"Just like Papa H?" Laughing, Becky pulled her legs up to her chest and rested her chin on her knees. She had cut her promo against Sasha over an hour ago and as soon as it aired, compliments started pouring in on Twitter, but she still wished she had a match. "What about _Trollins_? Like 'Triple' and 'Rollins' put together. . . ."

"And not at all about trolling people on the internet, right?" After Seth finished tying his boots, he sat across from her and wrapped his hands around her ankles. "What's up? Your promo was amazing. From what I heard, even Vince liked it."

"It was a good promo," Becky agreed. Feuding against someone like Sasha, who could hold her own and dish it right back, was far more satisfying than the forced tension with Lacey Evans. Becky felt more energized by a few interactions with Sasha than she had for the whole Evans feud. "Give me a match any day, though. How many women's matches are there tonight? One? And it involves two women from SmackDown. I love Sonya, you know I do, but how are the people like Dana ever going to improve if they don't ever get the spotlight?"

"I know. It sucks." Seth went quiet as he massaged her calves. The underutilized women's divisions were something they talked about often, but he would never really know what it felt like to be an afterthought to the McMahons. "But don't forget how much work you did to get where you are. A lot of that was all you. You didn't wait for the spotlight. You made the most of your promos. You used Twitter. You found a way. You brought eyes to the women's division, but the other women have to do their part too. If they don't have the drive or the confidence, that's not on you."

"Isn't it?" A comment someone had made in one of her specials was nagging at her. "I kept saying I changed the game, and I was so proud of that. But what if I changed it into a game that's that much harder for the other women to win? Who does that help then? I can't fight Sasha and Charlotte all the time. Bayley will get there. Ember will too. Sonya could, but not without splitting her from Mandy. There's no real tag team division because it wasn't built up enough beforehand." Becky rolled her neck from side to side as she sighed. "I know they'll have me drop the belt to Sasha. Maybe not at Clash, but at least by Hell in a Cell. And I'm not mad about that. She'll be a great champ. She always is, if she's given half a chance. But then where am I?"

Seth bowed his head against hers, his steady breathing ruffling stray pieces of her hair. "Becks, you're not going to fade into obscurity. The fans love you too much for that to happen, and Hunter and Steph believe in you too much to let that happen. But _you_ wouldn't let that happen either. There are other ways to be at the top that don't involve holding a title."

Becky's snort was muffled by her knees. "Easy to say when you're about to hold three titles at the same time." As she sat up, she managed a smile. Seth had a busy night ahead and he didn't need to be worrying about her moodiness. "That's a lot of hardware to carry. I can take care of U2D2 for you if you like. . . ."

"Becky. . . ." Seth's gaze sharpened, but before he could continue, there was a knock at the locker room door. Glancing down at Becky's watch, he swore softly. "We'll talk later, okay? I promise." As he rose, he gave her a soft kiss. "See if Sonya's still around. Talk to her about starting a feud on Twitter. If they do have you drop the belt to Sasha right away, then maybe you can at least plant the seeds for a new fight, right? Or talk to Dana about going for the tag belts. I bet she'd love an opportunity."

"Have fun, champ champ champ." Becky stood up so Seth wouldn't have to bend as much to hug her. "I'll make sure I have my bags packed so we're ready to head out right away." Their promised vacation was looming and she couldn't wait to have a break. Her past year had been incredible and she wouldn't trade it for the world, but she hoped having a little bit of time away would help settle some of her insecurities. Not having a camera following them everywhere they went would be an excellent start.

After Seth left for his final preparations, Becky headed back to the women's locker room to gather her things. Since she hadn't fought, there wasn't much to pack up, so she left her bag in Seth's locker room and started to walk around backstage, avoiding the areas blocked off for promos and storyline filming. She didn't recognize Sonya at first since her hair was down, but Mandy was difficult to miss. "Hey, ladies." Becky approached slowly, unsure of her welcome.

Mandy and Sonya seemed happy enough to see her, though, and Mandy offered her a donut. "Hey, Becky. That promo tonight was fire," Mandy said. Then she winked at her partner. "And you rock the ponytail almost as well as Sonya."

"Key word _almost_." Then Sonya laughed as she shook out her loose hair. "It's nice to have it down sometimes too, though. So what's up, champ? Still want to punch me in the neck for money?"

Becky had to laugh. With all the fuss over things said on Twitter, at least Sonya seemed to take it in the spirit it was intended. "To be honest, I'd do it for free, but a girl's got bills, you know? Of course I do. Neck, face, wherever: I'm down if you are."

Mandy patted Sonya's cheek. "Leave this beautiful face out of this. Yours too, Becky," she added quickly, though she didn't go so far as to touch Becky in turn. "Or find a tag partner and fight us. The tag division is going nowhere and it's so frustrating."

Sonya gave Becky a friendly punch on the shoulder. "We all miss you on Blue," she added. "It's not the same without you."

"I miss Blue right back." Becky had been thinking about SmackDown more and more as of late. It had always had a different vibe than RAW: more independent, less predictable, and open to anything. That was sure to change later in the year when it moved to a different network, but Becky still missed it. Would she ever have become The Man if she had been languishing on RAW? Probably not. "Survivor Series is going to feel so strange this year—" She stopped suddenly as she watched Mandy's expression go from, as Naomi would say, _yaaaas_ to _yikes_. "What is it?"

Sonya pointed as subtly as she could, and Becky turned to see Samoa Joe standing not far behind her. "Hey, Joe," Becky said easily. "Seth doesn't have U2D2 here, if you're wondering."

Samoa Joe gave a slight shake of his head, and Mandy and Sonya clearly took it as their cue to leave, because they murmured some hasty goodbyes before Becky even had a chance to snag a second donut. "Close, but not quite, Lynch. Got a minute?"

Becky nodded and followed. It would have been nice to chat longer with Mandy and Sonya, but she could catch up with them another time; maybe she could get Sonya on RAW for a title match with the Wild Card rule, or use the rule herself as an excuse to visit SmackDown. "What's up?"

"Not so good at the gaming, are you?" Joe asked, sliding a bag off his shoulder. You could always trust him to get right to the point.

"Not so much, no." Becky had to laugh. When it came to video games, her enthusiasm and her enjoyment levels far outstripped her skills. 

Then Joe reached into his bag and handed her a controller. "Well, we're going to work on that. Your boy has enough gold, I think. So here's the plan: I get you learned up, you go on to beat him, and then I'll beat you."

"Well, I was on board until the end of the plan," Becky laughed. "But I don't think a half-hour lesson will do the trick. . . ."

Joe took out his controller as well, slinging the cord around his neck the same way he did his towel. "That's why you're getting more than one. Not all today, mind you, and I think we can both agree it's for best if your boy doesn't know."

Becky narrowed her eyes. "Would I at least get to be Becky Two Belts for long enough to resurrect my shirt?"

"I'm amenable to that." Joe held out his free hand. "Deal?"

After a moment's hesitation, Becky shook Joe's hand. UpUpDownDown was all in fun, after all, and if Seth was going to have two official belts, he could live without U2D2 for a while. "As long as you don't tell me to use the brakes in a racing game," she declared.


	25. "For the rest of my life"

"Quit stopping yourself from smiling." Seth was grinning himself as he said it, mouth pressed to the back of Becky's neck as they sat curled up on the beach, looking out at the ocean. "You're allowed to be happy, you know."

Becky turned carefully in his lap and snuggled into his chest. Ever since he had proposed, aside from the brief moments when she composed herself enough to call her mother with the news, she had been giggling or smiling or both. Her delight had run the scales from an incredulous titter to gleeful laughter and the occasional self-deprecating chuckle; if she could be rendered hoarse by laughing alone, she wasn't going to be able to talk tomorrow. "I know. I just can't. . . ." And then she was dissolving into ecstatic giggles again, burying her face against his shoulder as her feet kicked happily. She had never been engaged before—never even really considered it a possibility, even in her longer relationships. "God, I can't even think. I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

Seth kissed her head and toyed with her hair. "You'll have to call Charlotte at some point so she doesn't kill us both. Same with Sasha and Bayley; I'll call Roman. We'll be seeing Finn soon enough. For now, though," he added, tilting her chin up so he could meet her gaze, "we can just enjoy the moment."

Reaching up, Becky kissed him, her laughter still bubbling out until the kiss deepened enough that she had to remember to breathe. When they had made their plans for Hawaii, she had assumed it was purely for Finn's upcoming wedding. "I love you so damn much," she murmured. "How long have you been planning this? I go through your luggage all the time. Not snooping for a ring or anything," she added quickly, turning around fully in his lap so she was straddling him. "But for your bracelets or . . . whatever. Where did you hide the ring?"

Seth just laughed. "Not telling, Irish. I need at least one hiding spot you don't know about. But I've been thinking about it for a while. A long while. I know some people are going to say it's too soon, but. . . ." He kissed her again, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her as close as he could. "If I didn't do it soon, I was worried I was going to lose the ring, but I didn't want to do it at Finn's wedding either, so. . . ."

Becky held her left hand up to the sun. "I love it. I love you more, obviously," she added, kissing him again. Between all the kissing and laughing and smiling, she would be amazed if she could move her jaw tomorrow. "It's beautiful. You can get me more jewellery any time," she quipped.

"Well, I shouldn't spoil the surprise, but I was planning on another ring next year; that's probably one we should pick out together, though." Seth reached up and threaded his fingers with hers. "Does this mean you'll stop coveting my belts now?"

"Never." Wrapping her arms around his neck, Becky kissed him so hard they toppled over into the sand, and they would have been in serious danger of doing more in open view on a beach than they should be when one of their phones rang. "That's yours," Becky said, reluctantly sliding off him as she caught her breath. 

"Probably Finn." Seth was equally breathless as he reached for his fanny pack. "Making sure I didn't chicken out."

Becky lurched to her feet slowly. "I'll call Charlotte then, before I get the giggles again." She walked a little bit down the beach, watching Seth all the while. The smile on his face was wide and wondrous as he told Finn the news, and it made Becky fall in love with him all over again. It was a good thing she had all the necessary numbers programmed in her phone, because her thoughts were scattered to the winds; rather than feeling like she had butterflies in her stomach, they were in her head, flitting around and making her dizzy. "Hey, Char. Guess what?"

"YOU'RE ENGAGED!" It wasn't only Charlotte's voice hollering with such joy that Becky nearly dropped her phone to the sand; she could hear Bayley and Sasha there too. After some hoots and hollers and innuendo, though, Charlotte's voice rose above the rest. "As soon as you said you two were going to Hawaii, I thought—"

"Wait." Bayley's voice held an edge of worry. "He _did_ propose, right? Otherwise we just kind of ruined everything. . . ."

"He did." Now they were all screaming and laughing, and Becky looked over to see Seth shaking his head at her, smiling all the while. "I have no idea how to be engaged, you guys, but I love him so much and—"

"Ring!" Sasha bellowed. "Send us a picture of the ring, bitch! We aren't all clustered around this phone for warmth, you know!"

"Hang on." Becky held out her left hand and tried to steady her right hand enough to take a decent picture. They had a few pictures they could use for a public announcement, but she knew her friends wouldn't share anything without her permission. "There."

The delighted shrieks turned to appreciative oohs and aahs. "I'm so happy for you, Becks." Charlotte's voice was only slightly subdued. "I know Bayley's the only one of us who will be able to say that on screen, but Sasha and I are both so stoked for you."

"And we're going to throw you the bachelorette party of the century," Sasha promised. "Legit."

"Don't they call them 'hen parties' in Ireland?" Bayley asked. "Does that mean we have to give you chickens for your bridal shower or something?"

Becky's giggles were coming back. "You guys are the best. Seriously. I love you so much. We'll get together and talk when I'm back, yeah?" When she glanced back, she saw Seth walking towards her. "Love you, bye!"

"Do you have ear drums left?" Seth asked, grinning as he wrapped his arms around her. Ever since he proposed, they had been touching each other almost constantly, as if they couldn't believe the other was real and still there. "I could hear Bayley from over there."

"We should make our last few calls and then I can post to Twitter," Becky suggested, going on tiptoe to kiss him. "And then we can enjoy our first sunset being engaged."

Seth raised an eyebrow. "Are we counting a bunch of new firsts now?" His family had already known he was planning to propose, so his calls had been much shorter, though no less delighted. Now they just had friends left to contact.

"Well, I was going to say we could go back to the hotel after the sunset for an early night in and engagement sex," Becky sighed, "but if you don't want to count stuff like that. . . ."

"No, no. I'm good. Just remember that you're not the best at math," Seth added with a wicked grin, pulling her back down to sit on the sand, "so maybe I should be keeping track. . . ."

Leaning back against him, Becky laughed. "You'll totally skew the numbers in your favour."

"Not always." Seth planted a kiss on her shoulder. "Now post to Twitter already so people can stop telling me 'put a ring on it' every ten seconds," he chuckled, "and don't forget what we agreed to."

" _No reading the comments_ ," Becky replied with a mock sigh. Even with their relationship no longer front and centre on RAW, there were still plenty of haters and naysayers who thought it was all a work and didn't hesitate to make sure Becky and Seth knew it. With Seth murmuring in her ear about what sort of firsts they could get up to tomorrow, she quickly readied her post and then held her phone up so he could preview it.

" _Happiest day of my life,_ " Seth read, voice catching a bit. " _For the rest of my life._ Only one heart emoji? Really?" Judging from his misty-eyed expression, though, the message had hit home.

Rolling her eyes, Becky added another heart after the ring emoji before posting the tweet with the picture. "I love that dorky smile so much." She zoomed in on their faces, both their expressions slightly dazed.

"It's not dorky." Seth tickled her until she set her phone on his fanny pack. "And besides, you look like you're about to twist your ankle."

"It's not my fault the rocks were shorter where I was standing." Then Becky chuckled. "I bet if we were in Florida—"

"Don't even _start_ with Florida." Mindful of his fanny pack and her phone, Seth tackled her to the sand, their remaining phone calls forgotten. They would have to apologize to the friends and family members who found out about the engagement online or second-hand, but Becky knew that joyful days like this didn't happen often and she didn't want to waste any of it, not the first sunset or any moment they shared in the coming days.

*

Seth might have teased Becky about wanting to enjoy their first sunset being engaged, but he knew he was just as enthralled as she was. Now as their first sunrise was beginning, he watched it over her shoulders as she slept, ridiculously sprawled across the king-sized bed. She had even insisted on switching from her regular side of the bed so she could be closer to the window, and the golden light reflected off her engagement ring in all directions.

For the past day or so, Seth's heart had felt like that, spilling light everywhere. Keeping the ring hidden from Becky had been an utter ordeal, especially in Davenport. She was spending most of her time in his house—more like their house, now—so he couldn't exactly tell her to avoid a certain room or drawer without making her suspicious. Some of his closest friends knew his plans, but as each day went by, it was harder and harder not to just break down and ask her. Finn had assured him repeatedly that he wouldn't take offence if Seth proposed before or after his wedding; Seth had been planning for after, but the anticipation got to him. For all the nerves and evasion, though, every fraught moment had been worth it for _that moment_ : her voice cracking as she said _yes_ , the way her hand was shaking as he slid the ring on her finger, how she was laughing and crying and screaming and somehow kissing him all at once. Becky might have had the best year of any WWE star in recent memory, but his past two weeks had definitely been unsurpassed.

Then Becky's shoulders twitched, a shiver swept down her spine, and she rolled onto her back. "Why are you all the way over there?" He wasn't even a foot away, but since they had been touching almost constantly since the engagement, it wasn't as dramatic an exaggeration as it sounded.

"Enjoying the view," Seth smiled, curling up beside her and kissing her softly. She immediately snuggled into his warmth. He had to force himself to stop looking at her left hand to make sure the ring was still there, that he hadn't imagined yesterday completely. Despite all the encouragement from friends, he worried that his mistakes in past relationships would make Becky wary; he might have teased her for being giddy, but in truth he was just as surprised, amazed, and delighted that she had said yes.

"You're going to make my fiancé jealous," Becky teased, pushing him onto his back.

"Fiancé now, is it?" Whenever he was bugging her about something, she would make some threat or retort about her 'boyfriend'. "There has to be a ring or it doesn't count," he grinned, sliding his hands up her sides.

Becky happily flashed the ring in his face before leaning down to kiss him. "That means you're stuck with me now."

"I am? What about this fiancé of yours?" As Becky laughed, he rolled her onto her back and within seconds he had her giggles turning into gasps. When her phone rang, though, he buried his face against her shoulder to suppress a growl. "I don't want to share you today," he groaned.

"I don't want to share you ever." Becky's fingers lingered on his spine tattoo, retracing one of the characters over and over; he thought it was the symbol for courage, but his focus was far too fuzzy to be sure. Her other hand was at his hip, fingers twitching as her phone started to ring too. "Phones off until noon?"

Seth reluctantly rose from the bed to grab their phones and they both shut them off as quickly as they could. "No emergencies allowed today," he muttered as he set the phones aside. "Now where were we?"

Becky grinned and pulled him back down to her. "You were asking about my fiancé."

"I don't care about him," Seth replied, nuzzling her neck. "My fiancée, though . . . you'd better watch out for her. She could kick your ass."

Grabbing his left hand, Becky kissed his ring finger. "There has to be a ring," she quoted, "or it doesn't count."

Seth started to laugh, but his breath caught as the fingers of Becky's other hand wrapped around his cock. "What fool said that?"

Becky chuckled, the sound vibrating through them both. "My fiancé."

"Like I said. _Fool_. I'd rather have something else around my finger anyway." Seth tried to keep his hand as slow as his kisses when he slid two fingers inside her, but it didn't take long for either of them to climax.

When Becky finally opened her eyes, the sunshine caught the green in them and made them glow even more. "So you're saying you don't want a ring then?"

"I didn't say _that._ " Seth stretched out beside her, draping his arm around her waist. "What's that other thing they say on your Twitter machine? 'Get you a girl who can do both'?"

Laughing, Becky rested her left hand on his arm, watching how the diamonds glinted in the sunlight. "I thought we were ignoring internet comments."

"Only the bad ones." Seth had barely caught his breath before he eased onto his back and pulled Becky onto him. If the phone ban only went until noon, then they still had a lot of engagement firsts they could enjoy.


	26. Burned

"Why does the sun hate the Irish so much?" Becky's accent, already tricky for Seth to decipher at times, was further garbled by the pillow. After their fishing trip, the full extent of her sunburn was impossible to ignore and he had insisted that they take a break and head back to the hotel. Now she was sprawled prone on the bed, naked but for her engagement ring, and Seth was checking just how severe her burn was. "I love the sun! It makes me warm!" She gingerly turned her head to look up at him. "You said the sunblock was SPF 50. . . ."

Seth grabbed the bottle from the bedside table and handed it to her. "It is. But you'll burn faster out on the water, because the sun reflects. . . ." He sat on the bed beside her and held out a jar of aloe lotion for her to sniff. "That okay?"

Becky nodded as she set the sunblock bottle aside. "I hope it heals before we go back. Otherwise I'll have to ask Sasha to hit me with pillows instead of chairs." She flinched as soon as Seth started spreading the soothing lotion across her shoulders, but she forced herself to relax. "That's probably why they had so many pillow fight matches in the Divas' days. They were all sore from being sunburned." When she tried laughing at her own joke, Becky winced again. "If we have kids," she whimpered, squirming as he started working on the worst part of her burn, "I hope they have your complexion."

Since Becky couldn't see his face, Seth didn't try to hide his dorky grin, the one that made his nose crinkle up. They hadn't exactly been talking about marriage and children and the future nonstop since he proposed, but when the topics came up, Becky wasn't panicking any longer. "Only if they have your eyes," he countered, massaging the lotion into her shoulder blades. She was still whimpering here and there, but the sounds were gradually more pleased—or at least relieved—than painful, and her fingers were starting to twitch the way they did when she was getting turned on.

"Nope. Yours." Becky's shoulders clenched once as Seth crossed over a particularly tender spot, but then she sank back down into the pillow. "And your eyelashes, of course."

Seth planted a gentle kiss on her shoulder before moving his way down her back. "What will they get from you then?" Where her skin was more pink than red, he moved quicker, saving most of the lotion for the places that were radiating heat.

"My accent, of course. I'm going to teach them how to say _garage_ properly, since you like it so much." Becky's light chuckle made her shake under his hands, and he paused to tickle her sides before scooping more lotion out of the jar. "Oh, and I'll make sure they _love_ chocolate mint. I'll get them mint hot chocolate every time we go to a café."

"Huh. Look at that. The lotion's all gone." Seth pretended to set the jar aside while Becky struggled to prop herself up on her elbows. "I'll have to go get some more. . . ."

Becky managed to look into the jar before Seth lifted it out of reach. "Liar." She shot him a mild glare as she flopped back down on the bed. "That's all right. That just means I get to top you until my burn's healed. Because my back will be sore, you know."

Seth squeezed her ass until she yelped. "You didn't burn _everything_ back here, you know." Kissing the spot just behind her ear, he finished putting lotion on the back of her arms and then stretched out beside her. "You need to let that absorb in for a few minutes," he murmured, lightly running his fingers down her back. "And then we'll work on the rest."

"Best future husband ever," she murmured, reaching over to stroke his cheek.

The ring or the word: Seth wasn't sure which one made him go still. The ring was rarely cold, but he could always tell when it was against his skin, and it still thrilled him to see it on her hand; better yet was when he caught her admiring it, the way she would smile and blush and glance away, but only for a second, as if she wanted to make sure it hadn't disappeared. _Husband_ , though, that got to him. He had said it in interviews, but _wife_ had always been on his horizon more: when he had talked with Becky's parents, when he designed the engagement ring, when he talked to Roman and others for advice. This was the first time he could recall hearing Becky say _husband_ in any context, and it didn't matter that her accent turned it into something thicker than he was used to hearing. He would gladly take a lifetime of debates about how to say _garage_ and mint hot chocolates if it meant getting to hear her say _husband_ like it was his name.

He must have looked more shocked than smitten, though, because something had dimmed in Becky's eyes. "Too soon?" She tried to lighten her tone, but there was no mistaking the uncertainty in it. "I just figured you'd laugh at how I pronounce _fiancé_ and—"

Seth closed the gap between them and drew her into a kiss, forgetting everything else for a moment. She returned it eagerly and happily, but her sunburn was still angry, making her wince when Seth dug his fingers into her back. "Shit." When he forced his eyes open, Seth realized he had nearly pushed Becky onto her back. "Becks, I'm sorry. Are you okay?" He sat up and reached for the aloe lotion. "Stretch out again and I'll—"

"No." Becky sat up too, though far more gingerly, and straddled his lap. "I'd rather be kissing my future _husband_ , thank you." Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him again, keeping her movements slow and small. "That's not some new kink, is it? I'm starting to lose track. . . ."

Nuzzling a relatively unburned part of her neck, Seth laughed. "No. Just . . . incredibly satisfying to hear, I guess." He dipped the fingers of one hand in the aloe lotion and started massaging it along her sides. "We're still here for a few days; we could get a license. . . ."

"My ma would kill you." Becky's eyes were drifting shut, but Seth knew from her smile that she was turned on than tired. "Besides, it'll give us a reason to get time off next year." She moved into his touch and slid a hand down his chest. "And look, our first engagement compromise: Neither of us is on top."

Seth gave her a quick kiss before getting more lotion. He was massaging some places that weren't burned, strictly speaking, but Becky didn't seem to mind. "Well, technically, you're on my lap, which—"

Becky shook her head and laughed. "Do you want to switch, then? You can sit on my lap."

"Nah, I'm good." Seth let out a sharp breath when Becky's hand slid inside his shorts. "Better now." He let himself enjoy Becky's deft fingers for a few moments before returning to his own handiwork. "When we're done," he managed to say between languid kisses, "I'll find a moonlight boat tour so you won't have to worry about another burn."

"But it won't be dark for hours yet." Becky pulled the elastic from his bun so his hair fell free. "And since _my phone_ was dropped in _the ocean_ ," she added sharply, giving his curls a hard tug, "that means you'll have to find some way to keep me amused until then."

"You'll get your new phone tomorrow, I promise." As his hands roamed over burned skin and tan lines alike, Seth wondered what kind of mark Becky's ring would leave on her finger. She couldn't wear it while she was wrestling and its tan lines would eventually fade; he knew some of the guys wore silicone rings while wrestling. He'd have to look into that later, though: he didn't dare bring his phone out around Becky, especially since he was the one responsible for the demise of hers, and he had a fiancée to entertain. "As for keeping you amused," he added, pulling her closer, "I can think of few things. . . ."

*

"So Sasha goes on a break and gets a dog and a title shot out of the deal." Becky tapped her script on her leg as Seth flipped through his. "I clearly need to stay away longer."

Seth planted a quick kiss on her cheek. "You got an engagement ring, unless that doesn't count for anything. I can take it back and we can go adopt a dog instead. . . ."

Becky wagged a finger at him, holding her left hand out of his reach. She would take her ring off before she went out into the arena, but she fully planned on keeping it on for every single second she could. Her ears were still ringing from all the delighted squeals in the women's locker room when she arrived, and she was fairly certain she had never been hugged so many times in one day, not even during the six-hour meet and greet. "Oh, no, no, no. Don't you even think about that. I want a dog _in addition to_ my ring, thank you. Plus a title shot."

"You already have Red," Seth pointed out. He looked as tired as she felt. Their time in Hawaii had been glorious and as much as Becky loved wrestling, she dreaded getting on the plane to the mainland. "You planning on teaming up with Bayley and going for the Women's Tag titles?"

"Funny you should mention that." Grinning, Bayley ran towards them, holding up the SmackDown Women's Championship. Becky rose and they clinked the belts together like champagne glasses before hugging. "I'm guessing he hasn't read your parts yet?"

Becky shook her head. "Apparently there's going to be a 'Women's Champions Showcase'," she said when Seth gave her a confused look. "Me and Bayley against Alexa and Nikki. No titles on the line, though."

Seth's eyebrows rose in appreciation. "Nice. Should be a good match. And at least you don't have to worry about Sasha hitting you with a chair again."

Bayley and Becky shared a glance. "Yeah. About that. . . ." Becky instinctively reached around and poked her back. The sunburn was still tender, but at least the flaking stage had passed. The costume department had worked some last-minute wonders and found a thin aloe-infused gauze she could wear under her top that would help protect her still-sensitive skin. "I'm getting the sequel tonight." She purposefully didn't look over at Bayley.

"Seriously?" Seth shook his head. "Why can't they just let you two fight?"

"Because it's not just from Sasha. . . ." Becky folded the straps of her belt in and set the title on her lap, letting her fingers trace over her logo on the side plates.

Bayley spread her arms wide as if she were about to give Becky another hug. "It's from me too!"

" _Seriously?_ " Seth paged forward in his script and when he couldn't find Becky's segments quick enough, he grabbed her pages instead and zeroed in on the highlighted portions. "So much for the Four Horsewomen reuniting any time soon. . . . "

Becky shrugged and pulled her script away from him. "Who knows? Maybe if Andrade wins King of the Ring, Queen Charlotte will smile upon her dutiful peasants and take pity on me." Then she looked over at Bayley again. "My sunburn's still healing, so take it easy, yeah?"

"And no head shots." Seth's eyes had darkened enough that Bayley took a step back and raised her hands in surrender. After Bayley sped through her goodbyes, Seth slung an arm around Becky's shoulders. "So you get to be the lone wolf for a while. . . ."

"Nothing new, really." Becky tried to keep her voice neutral. She was thrilled that Sasha was back and that Bayley was getting more opportunities, but she would be lying if she said she didn't miss the camaraderie of the Four Horsewomen. "But you've got your own beatdown to prepare for," she said, kissing him as she stood, "so I'm going to get my sunburn checked by Medical before I get dressed and then wander for a bit."

She never willingly went to Medical and Seth knew it, but he also clearly saw that she needed some time to herself, because he didn't ask or offer to come along. "Sure. Catch you later."

Becky veered away from Medical as soon as she could, finding an empty corridor where she could pace. Over the past year, she had built herself up and got herself over to a degree even she hadn't imagined; now she could help others do the same. She could help Bayley achieve the heel turn that had fallen flat during her feud with Sasha last year. Staying at the top and holding a title indefinitely was impossible—at least for people who weren't Brock Lesnar or Ronda Rousey—but that didn't mean she had to fade into obscurity either. It just wasn't a journey she envisioned making alone; Becky had figured she would stay friends in character with at least one of the Four Horsewomen, but it was looking increasingly unlikely.

The night both sped by and felt as slow as sludge. Having Sasha come out during her initial spot had been electric; it almost made Becky feel like a fan again. But that enthusiasm could only lift her so much. Once it came time for her beatdown, she tried to focus on the fan reactions, fighting not to smile at the huge pop when Bayley started hitting her with the chair. It was almost like SummerSlam 2018 all over again, just on the receiving side of the beating, but it didn't take long for the boos to take over. Fan reaction was all over the place; she didn't envy Creative for trying to navigate it, and she definitely didn’t look forward to potentially cringe-worthy spots she and Bayley and Sasha were going to have in the coming weeks.

After the cameras went off and Seth came out to check on her, Becky felt a strange twinge of guilt for not having her ring on. She hadn't even had it for two weeks, but her hand already looked strange to her without it. "I'm fine," she muttered, bowing her head so her ponytail could shield her face from view as she started to storm up the ramp. Seth was either acting up a storm or he was legitimately concerned, because he kept reaching for her. She didn't turn around until she was beyond the curtains, past the gorilla position, and far away from any cameras. "I'm fi—"

"You're going to Medical." Seth didn't push her; instead he did the opposite, standing firm in her way until she sighed. "Humour me. Please." He pressed his forehead to hers, cupping a hand around her head.

"Do I get a dog?" Becky figured it was worth a shot. Since they were still bouncing between California and Davenport, though, she knew that would have to wait.

Seth's expression was caught somewhere between worry and exasperation. "A stuffed one. But it doesn't sleep in the bed. The belt was bad enough."

Becky cracked a smile. "You're just lucky _I've_ never had three belts at once." She wrapped her arms around him and focused on his heartbeat for a few moments.

"Yet." Seth bent to kiss her head. "Come on. I have a dark match, and I'm not going out until you're cleared. Or at least until I know you're in Medical and actually going to get looked at."

"I will. Promise." Becky twined her fingers with his, smiling as he instinctively ran a fingertip along where her ring should be. "And I'll listen to the doctor and all that."

Seth still insisted on walking her to the office, even when a harried tech ran up and told him he was up soon. "Don't let her trick you," he warned the doctor. "I know for a fact she had some bruises from last time."

"Hush, you. Go beat up Baron Corbin for the millionth time already. I'll be here." Becky couldn't help smiling as he kissed her one last time and then left. Earlier she had been feeling like she was on her journey alone, but she knew better. It was just that the path and who she was travelling it with had changed, and she was changing with it. Sasha might have been an emo-lyric butterfly with her cocoon, but Becky was a phoenix and her flames were still burning.


	27. Bear Hug

"So we hate football now, right?"

Seth tried not to laugh as he glanced over at Becky, squeezing her hand. Football— _American football,_ he corrected himself—wasn't her thing, but she knew how excited he had been about being able to see a Chicago Bears game in person and she had agreed to go. It meant he had spent most of the game explaining rules and plays, but since the Bears lost anyway, he hadn't missed much. "Yes. Yes, we do."

Becky nodded as they continued on their way to their car. After the game, they had been approached by several fans for pictures and autographs, so what should have been a ten-minute walk at the most had taken them over half an hour. "Big E's been helping me," she added with a small grin. "He warned me about football season. And I _he_ doesn't laugh when I say it's stupid to call this sport _football_ when only one player is allowed to touch the damn ball with his foot."

"Maybe _throwball_ and _carryball_ were already taken." Seth ran a fingertip over her engagement ring. Normally when they held hands, he instinctively used his left so he could keep his own right hand free, but now he liked the feel of the metal, usually warmed by her skin. He understood why she didn't wear it to events often, but that didn't stop him from missing that glimmer on her finger when it wasn't there; sometimes he had to look back at all the pictures and videos they had taken to remind himself that their time in Hawaii wasn't just an elaborate dream.

"I think _tackleball_ is rather catchy. They could still rebrand, you know." Until her lips twitched, Seth almost thought she was serious. "Maybe if Vince had done that with XFL," she added with a smirk, "it would have done better." 

"Shhh. Don't jinx it. If Vince stays busy with his little pet project," Seth added, getting his keys out of his fanny pack, "then it means he won't be messing with the show scripts an hour before we go live." He had nothing against the resurrection of the XFL; if anything, he wished Shane would follow Vince over and leave most of the WWE decision making to Hunter and Stephanie. At least Hunter gave a damn about creating a future, not just preserving the present.

"I suppose I should cheer for the L.A. team," Becky mused, swinging their joined hands back and forth. "But Seattle has dragons. And New York's logo is pretty cool. Is it supposed to be a sphinx or something?" With her free hand, she poked at her phone to try finding a picture.

Seth smiled as he kissed the top of her head. Like a lot of people who didn't follow a particular sport, Becky made her choices based on random elements: a team's logo, the colours of the uniform, or even just a player's last name. "Next game will be better, I promise." When they reached their car, he pulled her into a hug. "Thanks for coming, babe."

"Just remember that when we're in Ireland." It sounded like she meant to say more, but a muscle in her back twitched hard enough that Seth felt it against his arm.

"Hey, you okay?" Seth dropped his hands to her waist but stayed close.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Becky rose on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. "Just not used to stadium seating for hours, I guess."

Seth didn't buy that, but he said nothing as he opened the door for her, watching as she eased herself into the passenger seat. Normally Becky would pull a leg up to brace her phone as she texted, even though Seth had warned her about what would happen if the air bags were deployed. At the moment, though, she was stretching out her legs, squirming in the seat. "Seriously, Becks, what's wrong? If you're still sore from those chair shots on Monday, we can get a room here tonight and drive back in the morning. . . ."

Becky tugged on the door handle, her face settling into a scowl. "I said I'm fine. I'm not the one who's driving." She pulled on the door again and Seth let go of it just in time to prevent his fingers from being smashed against the frame.

After she shut the door, Seth walked around the front of the car, watching as she tried to find a comfortable position. Hoping to placate her, he switched the stereo to his Pearl Jam playlist, but the pinched expression didn't leave her face. Once they were far enough away from the city limits that he didn't have to worry about her doing something stupid like jumping out of the car, he reached over and squeezed her knee. "That's the second time you've been hurt by one of Sasha's chair shots. Maybe we should tell Creative to try something else—"

"Maybe _I_ am fine with it." Becky twisted her purse strap with both hands, and Seth was just glad she didn't have her phone out instead; given what happened when he damaged her phone in Hawaii, he hoped she didn't need another replacement for a good long while. Turning to the side window, she added, "You had the same thing happen with Brock. _Twice_."

Seth glanced over quickly. He could tell her jaw was set, but as for her expression, he had to rely on her reflection in the window, distorted by the darkness outside. "Becks, that's different—"

"Why? How?" Becky twisted in her seat quick enough that it made her wince, but any pain in her eyes was quickly devoured by frustration; Seth quickly withdrew his hand so she didn't switch her strangling grip from her purse strap to his fingers. "What's different about it? Oh, maybe that in my case, I'm getting beaten by my friends, people I can trust to do their best not to hurt me?" When she paused for a breath, Seth almost started to point out that she _was_ hurting, but the look on her face convinced him otherwise. In certain other contexts, he loved that fierceness, that singular focus; when it came to arguments, though, it never boded well for him. "So how is it different? Tell me. You were hurt. You were _bleeding_." A sudden crack made them both look down and Becky realized she had broken the strap connector on her purse. She dropped her purse to her lap and continued. "You were hurt and bleeding," she repeated, voice softer but somehow even sharper, "and you told me not to worry. You tried to keep me from reading the spot. You told Roman to fucking _babysit me_ so I wouldn't interfere. So no, _you_ don't get to tell Creative anything." She did pull her legs up then, even though she flinched as she did so, and planted her chin between her knees. "It's fine. _I'm fine_."

Seth didn't realize her hands were shaking until the reflections cast from the diamonds in her ring danced across the dashboard. "Becky. . . ." He wasn't sure what to say. He didn't want to come off like some overprotective boyfriend— _fiancé,_ he reminded himself—who thought she couldn't take care of herself, but he worried. He had worried about her even they were just friends, concerned that she would give up too much and stretch herself too far in her quest to be her best. But there was no way to convince her of that in her current mindset. "Let's stop somewhere for the night," he suggested. "I'll pull over and look up the nearest place—"

"I just want to go home." Her voice was small and soft, and it made Seth's gut twist. Becky wasn't crying, but she was obviously trying very hard to stay calm. "I told Charlotte I'd call her about our tag match and that panel we're doing with Stephanie."

 _At least she said 'home'_ , Seth thought, _and not 'your place'_. Maybe it was a technicality, but it meant something to him. Reaching for the volume control on the stereo, he said, "You can call her now if you want. We've still got an hour and a bit until—"

Becky shook her head. "I'll wait." She pulled her phone from her purse and turned it on, thumbs sweeping across the screen with practiced ease. Seth had assumed the conversation was over and the silent treatment had begun when Becky took a deep breath. "So in football, there's . . . a defensive line and an offensive line? It's not like hockey where the same types of players are out all the time?"

Seth took a moment before responding. Becky didn't really care about football and she probably never would; he was okay with that. This was just her way of avoiding the discussion. It was less than ideal, but Seth didn't want to make her any more upset than she already was or potentially get them into a crash because they were both getting agitated. "Yeah. Baseball too, I guess. Depends on who has possession. . . ." As Becky tapped away on her phone, bouncing between Twitter and texting and email, Seth rambled on about positions and plays and rules. He had probably covered a lot of it during the game and he wasn't sure if Becky would retain any of it, but the familiar territory was calming him down. To his amazement, she seemed to be simmering down too: she had one leg stretched out again and she wasn't flitting from app to app as rapidly.

She wasn't shutting him out exactly; she just wasn't opening up. It made the rest of the drive feel longer than it was, and by the time they arrived home, Seth was exhausted. If Becky wanted to talk, though, he would stay up as long as he had to. But she had barely toed off her shoes before she headed for the hall. "I'm going to call Char before it gets too late." Then there was silence for a few moments before she let out a quick laugh. " _Hello, Charlotte's phone?_ Are you her personal assistant now, Andrade?" Andrade must have said something funny, lewd, or both, because Becky burst out laughing. "Yeah, well, that always was one of her favourites. . . ."

Seth didn't want to eavesdrop, so he went to the TV room and found a sports recap show so he could get caught up on the other scores of the night. When almost an hour had passed and he hadn't heard anything, he assumed Becky had either gone to bed alone or was in the den listening to music, so he jumped a bit when she quietly entered the room. She had changed into an old tank top and pjyama shorts, and her face looked freshly scrubbed. "How's Charlotte?" he asked. It seemed like a safe enough question.

"She's good." He half-expected her to curl up on the other end of the couch, but she sat on the middle cushion instead, leaving just a sliver of space between them. "Can we talk tomorrow? I'm tired." When Becky met his gaze, her eyes looked dark and drained.

 _It's better than not talking at all,_ Seth reminded himself. "Yeah. Of course." He motioned at the screen before setting the remote control on the table, out of her way if she wanted to move closer. "I just want to catch a post-game interview and then I'll be up to bed." He stretched out his arm along the back of couch: an invitation if she wanted to stay, a casual motion if not.

"I'll wait." Becky scooted closer, draping her legs across his as she rested her head on his shoulder. Once she was settled, she slid her left hand under his shirt and let it rest on his stomach, her engagement ring smooth and slightly cold against his skin. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Seth leaned his head against hers, watching the television idly. There were no more scores to wait for, no interview to watch; he had just wanted to give her options. It was a struggle not to stroke her back, but he made sure his hand went no lower than her shoulder. Emotions could exhaust her more than her workouts did, and if she was finally calm enough that she could sleep, he wasn't about to reignite that fight. As the minutes passed, her breathing slowed and deepened, and she gradually cuddled closer and closer until she was mostly in his lap. Once he was fairly certain she wouldn't stir, Seth turned off the television, braced one arm under her legs and the other around her shoulders, and stood slowly.

He almost got all the way to their bedroom before Becky stirred a bit. "What?" She tried rubbing her face against his shoulder to wake herself up, but Seth bowed his head and pressed it to hers to keep her still.

"Don't." Navigating the doorway with an armful of sleepy Becky wasn't the easiest feat, but he managed, relying on memory and light from the window to guide him. "Just sleep. It's been a long day." He tried to turn down the sheets while still holding her, but fatigue was playing havoc with his balance too. In the end, he set her down in his side of the bed, adjusted the blankets for her, and then gently rolled her into place.

It was tempting to just slide in beside her, but Seth forced himself to go through his nightly routine before getting into bed. It didn't take Becky long to gravitate over to him; he was always warm and she always wanted to be warmer. As she cuddled into him, Seth stroked her hair, waiting until she was definitely asleep to cautiously touch her back. She burrowed closer to him, but didn't wake, so he eased the strap of her tank top to the side and ran his fingers lightly over her shoulders. He was no expert, he knew, but the swelling he could feel seemed minor and manageable. Part of him wanted to call Joshy and ask his opinion, but as he started to fall asleep, he decided not to. It was a thin line between being an attentive fiancé and an overbearing one, and he wanted to be on the right side. It hadn't been much of an issue with his previous fiancé or girlfriends, but they also weren't getting beaten up on a weekly basis. _Maybe it's not the rigours of the road that break up most wrestling couples_ , he thought just before his mind went dark and heavy with sleep. _Maybe it's the worry._ He had downplayed issues to girlfriends before, but Becky would see right through them—just as he would. The trick, he guessed, was to make that an asset, not a liability.

*

"Here's to the _real_ main event!" Sasha popped open a bottle of champagne and poured it into the waiting glasses of her fellow Four Horsewomen. Their tag match hadn't closed out the night, but it had easily got the best response from the crowd.

"It's not beer with Stone Cold," Charlotte quipped, slinging an arm around Becky's shoulders, "but it'll have to do. He has different drinking partners tonight."

Becky shrugged and laughed, hugging Charlotte with her free arm. "But I got to drink beer with him _and_ drop him in the ring, so I win." She raised her glass so they could all toast. "Thank you for the excellent match, ladies. It's been way too long." She still saw Bayley in the gym, but it had been ages since she'd wrestled Sasha.

"Nothing better than tearing down the house with my girls." Sasha hugged Bayley close, bookends to Charlotte and Becky on the other side of the narrow hallway. After they had done their separate interviews and were free for the night, they found a quiet corner where they wouldn't have to worry about stray cameras. The brass could hardly build up a Four Horsewomen feud if they were all seen hugging and drinking together. "I missed you all so fucking much." Then she planted a loud kiss on Bayley's cheek. "Well, except this nerd. She had put up with me the whole time."

"Just try getting rid of me," Bayley grinned, resting her head on Sasha's shoulder. "Especially now. The rumours about the Faux Horsewomen are kicking up again. Think they'll get them over in time for Wrestlemania?"

"Most fans can't even name all four of them," Charlotte laughed. "It's like _Ronda and Shayna and . . . the other two?_ Maybe we can try to get something going with Asuka again. She's so good. I don't know why they're wasting her."

"Sonya too!" Bayley piped. "Hell, even Mandy's improving, even if they are giving her sucky promos. And Naomi's way overdue for a good feud. . . ."

"Or we could say fuck Vince and go crash NXT." Becky grinned as the other three women looked at her. They had each had very different paths to the WWE, but NXT was where it all really started for all of them. It would be a fitting way to bring the Four Horsewomen back together, with the bonus of getting more eyes on NXT and its amazing female talent. "If they didn't have us feuding now, that would have been an awesome thing to do when NXT goes to network TV."

"Don't say that!" Bayley gave a small pout. "Now I'm just going to think about how cool that would have been."

The champagne was soon forgotten and the women spent more time chatting than drinking, congratulating Becky again on her engagement and teasing Charlotte about a possible impending ring for her. It wasn't until Natalya approached, dressed in street clothes and ready to leave, that they sat up: Bayley had her head in Sasha's lap and Becky was leaning back against Charlotte. "Hey, girls. Killer match tonight. You totally should have been in the viewing room, though."

Becky knew Seth's match was on last, but she wanted to spend some time with her friends; according to the script, nothing super out of the ordinary was slated to happen, but Vince was now famous—more like _infamous_ —for his last-minute changes. "What happened?" A worm of worry niggled at her and she started to rise, but Charlotte held her in place.

"Oh, nothing bad. Don't worry." Then Natalya broke out laughing. "They were chanting _Becky's husband_ at Seth. It was priceless. Now the guys finally know what it was like for me and the Bellas. . . ."

Charlotte wrapped her arms even tighter around Becky, laughing against her shoulder. "I'm totally calling him that now."

" _Don't._ " But Becky was laughing too, so hard she couldn't catch her breath. Bayley and Sasha were doing the same, Bayley's face going bright pink.

As the laughter died away, Natalya set her bag on the floor. "You guys all look so happy. It's great to see. I should take a picture for you."

"My phone's back in the locker room," Bayley groused, the other three women nodding in agreement. They hadn't bothered changing yet; their time together was rare, so they didn't want to waste it.

Natalya waved it off. "That's fine." She pulled her phone out of her bag and went to her camera app. "I have all your numbers. I'll just send you the pictures after."

"You're the best, Nattie." Sasha and Bayley scooted over to join Charlotte and Becky and the four of them posed for a series of increasingly silly pictures. When Natalya turned the phone around so they could see the shots, Sasha dabbed at her eyes. "Can I get one serious shot of us, guys? Just one? I know we aren't sharing any of these, but I want one for me."

"Of course. Get up, wifey." Charlotte stood and pulled Becky along with her.

"I liked it better on the floor," Becky quipped. "We were all closer in height then."

The Four Horsewomen huddled close so Natalya could take a few more pictures. "That's too many to text," Natalya said after. "I'll email them instead, okay? Tomorrow, though. I'm beat."

"Sure, Nattie. Thanks so much." Sasha hugged her first and then the rest of the Four joined in. "Have a good night."

After Natalya left, the Four Horsewomen almost sank back down to the floor, but Charlotte spotted someone else approaching. "Oh, look! It's Becky's husband!"

Becky felt her cheeks ignite. "Char, _stop it_."

But Sasha and Bayley took up the chant too, of course, with Bayley doing the customary stomp and Sasha drumming out the extra clapping part on an equipment trunk. "Becky's husband! Becky's husband! Becky's husband!"

Drenched in equal parts sweat and beer, Seth just shook his head. "You forgot _Mr. Lynch_."

"Don't encourage them," Becky groaned, trying to hide behind Charlotte.

Bayley and Sasha decided to split up the chant, Bayley keeping up with _Becky's Husband!_ while Sasha answered with _Mr. Lynch!_

When Seth raised an eyebrow, Charlotte just shrugged, pulling Becky close to her side so she could kiss her flushed cheek. "Just remember she was our wife long before she was yours. See you later, Becks."

With a sigh, Sasha stopped chanting so she could hug Becky too. "Can't wait until Sunday," she said, giving Becky a long hug. "It's going to be so great."

"I know." Becky freed an arm so she could hug Bayley too. "See you Sunday, ladies," she smiled, flashing the Four Horsewoman hand sign at them before kissing Seth's cheek. "It won't take me long to get ready. Especially since you'll need about three showers. . . ."

Laughing, Seth tugged at his wrestling tights. "Yeah, these might be a lost cause. Have a good night, ladies."

"Good night, Mr. Lynch!" Bayley, Charlotte, and Sasha answered in near-perfect unison, at least until Bayley dissolved into giggles.

Becky waited until she and Seth were far away from the other Four Horsewomen to laugh. "I'm sorry. Were people actually chanting that?"

Seth nodded, leaning down to kiss her head. "Yeah, but don't worry about it. I kinda liked it." Then he jerked a thumb back at the corridor where the Four Horsewomen had been celebrating. "Besides, if I don't like it, it looks like I have competition for your hand. I didn't realize there was a line or I would have proposed earlier." He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close, slowing as they reached the women's locker room. "Your match was incredible."

"I missed yours," Becky admitted. "But we should be able to make it back to the hotel in time for the replay. . . ."

"No worries. I know you haven't been able to hang out with them for a while." After kissing her, Seth stepped back. "You'll probably finish before I do, so you can come find me when you're done."

"Okay. I won't be long." The women's locker room was empty when Becky entered, only the bags of the Four Horsewomen remaining. After she showered, the first thing Becky put on was her engagement ring, smiling as she always did when it slid into place. The Four Horsewomen were an integral part of her life, one she would always cherish no matter what happened to them. Now that she had Seth too, everything in her life finally felt like it was coming full circle, preparing her for the next loop—and she couldn't wait to see where it took her, and him.


	28. Clash

Becky knew the saying went something like _You don't know what you've got till it's gone_ , but she had never seen it that way. Maybe it was because she had walked away from wrestling and stayed away for so many years; she knew absence did make the heart grow fonder, but also more wary. For her, it always hit home when something—or someone—came back into her life. She'd never really had a chance to feud with Sasha during her latest stint on RAW, because she had been entangled with Charlotte and Ronda. After Wrestlemania, when her path could have finally crossed with Sasha's again, Sasha left and management dumped Lacey Evans in Becky's lap. It felt like it had been months since the Four Horsewomen had really been together, so the past few weeks had spoiled her.

The match against Sasha at Clash of Champions had been invigorating, and Charlotte's impromptu save the next night was a nice touch—and set the groundwork for several potential feuds. It was the promise of the Hell in a Cell match, though, that had Becky shaking with excitement as she went with Charlotte to the parking lot. Andrade was waiting for Charlotte there, letting her have some extra time with Becky, so they walked slowly—or, in Becky's case, bounced. "I finally get a proper Hell in a Cell match! _Finally!_ " She couldn't stop grinning as she drummed her hands on Charlotte's shoulder. "I'll have to watch your match with Sasha to get some ideas. . . ."

"Rewatch, you mean. For . . . what, the fiftieth time?" Charlotte teased, hugging Becky's arms close to her body to make her stop and slow down. "And stop smacking me, Becks. You're going to leave a bruise."

"Never." Becky hugged Charlotte's arm instead. "Sorry. I'm just excited."

"I know. And I love it." Charlotte wound her free arm around Becky and rocked her back and forth in a gentle hug. "I'm so glad you're finally getting all these opportunities. You've more than earned them, and you've _always_ deserved them." Then she stepped back and tapped Becky's left hand. Since she was done with her in-ring duties for the night, Becky had put her engagement ring back on. "And you deserve that too, but if you keep calling Seth your best friend," she added, softening her warning tone with a wink, "I might have to have some words with you. Or him."

"I heard my name." Both women turned to see Seth approaching, bag in tow. "Only good things, though, right?"

Charlotte narrowed her eyes. "I was just telling her that if she keeps calling you her best friend in all these interviews, I might have to do something about it." Then she laughed and kissed the top of Becky's head. "Okay. I've kept my papi waiting long enough. I'll catch you later, Becks. If you want some Hell in a Cell advice, just let me know."

"I will. Say hi to Andrade for me." When Becky could see Andrade leaning out the driver's side window, she waved. Then she threw her arms in the air as she turned, almost hitting Seth's in the face. "Hell in a Cell match!" she exclaimed, jumping up and down.

Seth laughed as he rubbed his jaw. "Not even an apology," he said, bending down for a kiss.

"Well, I didn't actually hit you," Becky pointed out, patting his cheek, "so there's nothing to apologize for. I'm just excited. I get a Hell in a Cell match! And against _Sasha!_ Not Lacey or Ronda or whoever."

"You'll be amazing, like always." Then he glanced over her shoulder. "You ready to head out?"

Becky nodded. "I just left my bag in the locker room, but it's ready to go." She slid her hand in Seth's and started walking, pulling him along. "You're getting Bray, right? That should be incredible." When Seth didn't answer right away, Becky tugged on his hand. "Or not?"

"Huh?" Seth shook his head. "Yeah, the match with Bray will be great. I'm just thinking about the draft coming up. If they have you drop to Sasha, you were technically on SmackDown before Wrestlemania. And if I drop to Bray. . . ."

"Worried about going blue?" Becky leaned against his arm. WWE did their best to keep established couples together, so she wasn't overly worried about them being on different shows. And SmackDown had always felt like her post-NXT home. She didn't mind Raw, but that was more because of the people there than anything.

Seth pulled her close and kissed her forehead. "You know how much I like red. . . ."

"Good thing Eva Marie's gone then," Becky quipped, "or else they'd put me in a feud with her." She didn't pull her hand away, but she did move a step to the side before adding, "But there _is_ all this drama going on about the father of Maria's baby—"

Letting go of his bag, Seth grabbed Becky around the waist and lifted her. "Careful, Irish, or you'll be calling Charlotte to come back and give you a ride. . . ."

"God, no." Laughing, Becky tried to squirm out of his grip. He'd let go if she asked him to, but it was more fun to try first. "I'd be done with that mami–papi stuff before we even left the arena." When she couldn't get good enough leverage to break Seth's hold, she changed tacks and kissed him instead, working her way up from his neck to his mouth.

As the kiss deepened, Seth's arms gradually loosened so he could adjust his grip on Becky and bring her in closer, letting her free her arms to wrap around his shoulders. "That's cheating," he murmured when they stopped to breathe.

"Your mouth was right there," she countered. " _That's_ cheating." Becky kissed him again as he lowered her to her feet and then she cuddled into him, ducking her head under his chin. "You think they're moving us to SmackDown? I haven't heard anything aside from Brock being on the first episode on Fox. . . ."

Seth shrugged before grabbing his bag in one hand and Becky's hand with the other. "I don't know. I've whispers here and there, but it seems kinda dumb to hype up you versus Sasha and me versus Bray just to move us over to SmackDown, don't you think? Especially if the whole Wild Card thing is ending?"

"It does," Becky agreed slowly as they started to walk again. "And then there's the rumours about Brock and Ronda. . . ." She didn't even want to continue with that train of thought. While she had no problem fighting Ronda again—though preferably one on one—both Brock and Ronda could suck all the momentum and intrigue out of a rivalry without even trying; Sonya must have been one of the few MMA athletes who could make the transition to WWE well. "Other than that, moving over to SmackDown could be a good thing. New opponents and all that." Then she poked him in the side. "Get a different colour in your wardrobe."

Seth just shook his head. "But if I start to like blue, then you'll just point out that Sasha has blue hair now. . . ."

"It would get me away from Lacey Evans. . . ." Becky raised an eyebrow. After the summer-long feud against Corbin and Evans, Seth would have to be happy to see less of them for a while.

"Unless they move her over too." Seth stopped in front of the women's locker room door. "I'll wait here," he said with a wink, "so we don't get in trouble again."

"Won't be long." As Becky ducked into the locker room, she almost wished she hadn't been so prepared; it would have given her more time to think. The prospect of being moved over to SmackDown was clearly weighing on Seth, but she wasn't sure why. The days of SmackDown being the B-show were long past, no matter how often it was brought up in rivalries. Sure, Seth would miss his friends on Raw—she would miss hers too—but they both had plenty of connections on SmackDown as well. _Maybe I should ask Roman_ , she thought as she grabbed her bag and headed back to the door.

"All good?" Seth smiled as she came out, but she could still feel a strange tension in him when he kissed her.

"Yeah. Let's go before you try to dump me off on someone else," Becky laughed. "Although riding with Sarah and the Viking Raiders could be fun. . . ." Seth started talking about an upcoming event for his wrestling school and while she listened, Becky was plotting ways to figure out what was bothering him. She wasn't used to seeing him with his confidence shaken. More than that, though, was the realization of how intertwined their careers had become. It was the nature of the business, but whether it was natural for a relationship was something they'd have to figure out, and soon.

*

"So you've had a good night. . . ," Becky said, still catching her breath as she slid off Seth and snuggled up to his side.

"Definitely this last part, yeah." Seth reached over and pushed some of Becky's hair over her shoulder. She would still be in San Francisco the next day so she could appear on the last SmackDown on USA, but Seth would be heading back to Iowa in the morning. Now that they were engaged, he was finding it tougher and tougher to be apart.

Becky propped her chin up on his chest. "Your Bears won," she pointed out, "and Bray attacked Braun, not you. That seems like a win to me."

"I know." Seth ran a hand up and down her back, hoping to distract her. More sex would be great, but he also needed sleep; he had an early flight in the morning. "I'm just going to miss you tomorrow, that's all."

"I'm sure they could've found something for you to do on SmackDown if you wanted to be there." There was a slight edge to her voice that he couldn't quite interpret.

"I know," Seth repeated, letting his hand drift a bit lower with each stroke. "But I've got stuff to do at Black and Brave, and—"

"SmackDown is important to me, okay?" Becky propped herself up on one elbow and looked down at him, her gaze as fraught as bruises. "I was the first woman drafted to SmackDown. I was the inaugural SmackDown Women's Champion. I wouldn't be where I am without SmackDown."

Seth blinked in confusion. He hadn't insulted SmackDown or questioned Becky's desire to be on the historic episode. "Becks, I _know_. How many times did I go to SmackDown when we just started dating so I could hang out with you?"

Some of the darkness left her eyes, but her shoulders were still tight. "Sorry. Sometimes it feels like you still buy into that whole 'Raw is the A-show' thing, and it was my home for a long time."

There was no good way to respond to that and Seth knew it. Raw had been the A-show for a long time, but that was no fault of the talent on SmackDown; they couldn't help the way they were booked, and most of them didn't have fortitude of Becky to try and carve out their own path regardless of what Creative gave them. "Becks, I have nothing against SmackDown," he insisted, pulling her closer so he could kiss her. "Well, maybe the shade of blue they chose, but you know I like my darker colours. If that's where we are after the draft, then that's where we are."

"But you'd rather be on Raw." Becky poked him in the ribs. "Aside from an extra hour, no Shane McMahon, and Renee on commentary, what does Raw have? Besides, aren't there more football games on Mondays than Fridays?"

Seth laughed and tried to roll Becky onto her back, hoping to distract her, but she held firm. "I love Raw the way you love SmackDown, I guess. But I love you more."

"You better." Becky's lips twitched in a smile. "And for the record, I'm not dyeing my hair Raw-red again. Eva Marie can keep that look, and keep it far the hell away from me."

Bowing his head, Seth planted a line of kisses down Becky's throat, each a bit rougher and more insistent than the last. It caught her off guard, for starters, and also gave him time to think. Becky had been off SmackDown almost half the year, give or take. They were still living separately, but she was spending more time in Davenport than he was in L.A.; almost all her family was back in Ireland, left behind so she could pursue her wrestling dreams. He could see how she felt she was always giving things up. "Being on the first roster on Fox could be cool," he allowed, nuzzling her collarbone.

"You're just trying to placate me," Becky said softly, running her hands down his back, "or distract me. Or both."

Seth grinned against her chest, listening to how her heart rate was speeding up each time he touched her. "I would never do such a thing."

Becky slid a hand into his curls and tugged just hard enough to make his breath hitch. "You do it all the damn time. You're very distracting."

"Well, if you can't call me your best friend anymore because it upsets Charlotte," Seth reasoned, moving down to her breasts, "I'll need to earn a new title then."

"Nope." Becky shook her head. "Next new title is mine. You still have U2D2. I want to be Becky Two Belts again before the end of the year. Carmella's got the 24/7 belt now; I could go for that."

"As long you know I'm not piggybacking you all over the arena to escape the mob," Seth replied. He placed one last kiss by her navel before pausing. "Do you want me to stop distracting you now?"

Becky squirmed a bit beneath him. "No. We had a good night. Might as well have a good morning too, right?" She pointed to the hotel's bedside clock, which read just after midnight.

Seth grinned up at her. His preference was to stay on Raw, but he would be happy wherever she was. The draft was out of their hands, so there was no point in worrying about it, not when there were so many other concerns on their plates. "What about your afternoon, though? You get to beat up Sasha tonight," he added, sliding a hand between her legs. "But how are you going to keep yourself occupied during the afternoon?"

"Well, Charlotte will be here, so—"

Seth set about distracting her in earnest. Maybe Charlotte had an edge when it came to being Becky's best friend, but he would take Becky's late nights and early mornings over afternoon coffee any day.


	29. Challenge

"Becky Two Belts!" Becky's voice got a bit raspier each time she yelled her victory cry, so by Seth's estimation she'd have no voice left by the end of the night, or at least she'd be very hoarse. "First-ever woman to be the UpUpDownDown champ!"

If Becky's throat was going to be sore from yelling, Seth's face was going to be sore from smiling. As much as he hated to lose, seeing Becky so happy delighted him in turn. "I'm sure that's going to be the highlight of your Hall of Fame video," he quipped, kissing her temple as she hugged her new belt; she had insisted on carrying it with her, which earned them some very strange looks in the hotel lobby. "Not being the first SmackDown Women's Champion or being one of the first women to main-event Wrestlemania or any of that. . . ."

Becky narrowed her eyes. "Don't belittle my precious." 

Given that her croaky voice was starting to sound rather Gollum-like, Seth had to fight not to laugh. "Did you actually get lessons from Samoa Joe," he asked as he opened the door to their hotel suite, "or was that just luck and button mashing?"

Pretending not to hear him, Becky set the UpUpDownDown belt on the couch and promptly opened her bag to retrieve her Raw Women's title. With all the focus of someone painting a miniature figurine, she positioned the two titles on the cushions, making tiny adjustments until she was satisfied. "Red will be such a good big sister."

Hugging her from behind, Seth buried his face in Becky's hair for a moment. "Does that mean they're not sharing the bed with us tonight?"

Becky half-turned and looked up at him. "What happened to 'the loser gets the bathtub'?"

Seth chuckled, digging his chin into her head until she relaxed back against him. "That was for cleaning up," he insisted, "not for sleeping."

"Says the _loser_." Becky ran her fingers over his and leaned back, making him bear more of her weight. "Down on your knees again and everything. I could get used to this."

" _Could?_ " Seth echoed, sliding his hands under her shirt. Becky wasn't exceptionally ticklish, but he knew which spots to target to get the quickest response.

"On your knees on a bed doesn't count," Becky declared. "Everyone knows that." After a moment's thought, she added, "Same with showers."

"So when I beat you and get the belt back," Seth said, turning her around and walking her backwards toward the bed, "then you'll have no problem kneeling for me, right?"

"I wouldn't," Becky clarified, "if I lost to you. Which I won't." She stopped just short of the bed and planted her feet so Seth couldn't move her as easily. "No automatic rematch clauses anymore, remember?"

"Becks, you know if you have to go up against. . . ." Seth paused, trapping her between him and the bed. Realistically, her win had been sheer luck and almost any of her potential opponents would trounce her. There was no way to say it that wouldn't involve an uncomfortable sleep in his immediate future, though. "Samoa Joe or AJ will destroy you," he finished awkwardly. 

Becky's smirk wasn't quite as sharp as her chuckle, but it came close. "I'll practice. I'm a fighting champion. While you watch your football, I'll go practice on your PlayStation."

The thought alone made Seth flinch. He was surprised Xavier's controller had survived Becky's manhandling; he hated to think about what she'd inflict upon his custom ones. While he was dreading the damage she might cause, Becky took advantage of the lapse in his attention to squeeze past him and run to the other side of the bed. "You don't even know where the power button is," he scoffed, slowly edging his way to the foot of the bed.

"Kids play them all the time," Becky replied. "It can't be that hard to figure out." Realizing that she had backed herself into a corner, she started to step up on to the bed, but Seth was tracking her every move. 

Seth knew he could easily hide his console, but it was more fun to tease her. "But what about when you're in L.A.?" he prodded. "You're not going to buy one of your own—"

"Oh, I'm not? Says who? CHALLENGE!" Becky tried jumping off the bed then, but Seth easily intercepted her, catching her around the waist before she could crash head first into the night stand. "I'll get Joshy to go console shopping with me and—"

"I'll tell him not to," Seth interjected, dropping her onto the bed and pinning her down. Most of the irritation of losing had ebbed away, but he still had some competitive energy to burn off. "And Xavier and Cesaro and Samoa Joe and—"

"Coward!" Becky's laugh boomed through the room. "If you weren't afraid of me getting better, you wouldn't care—"

Seth rolled his eyes. "Fighting games don't count. You can win those through dumb luck." When Becky tried reaching for a pillow, he wrestled her over onto her stomach, making her yelp and almost kick his knee.

"Says the guy who _lost_." She tried to get up on her knees to get some leverage, but Seth's grip was too strong. The more she squirmed, the more pressure he applied.

"I'm starting to think that I should have got you an engagement _belt_ rather than a ring." Seth adjusted his hold on her quickly so she couldn't get away as he moved her to the middle of the bed.

"WWE's first Wedlock Champion!" Becky's laugh was slightly muffled by the mattress as she started to wiggle again. "Why can't I have both?"

"And make me be responsible for Becky _Three_ Belts? The locker room would never forgive me." Seth started nuzzling the nape of her neck, chuckling softly as the resistance in her arms started to dissolve. "Besides, you have to _earn_ belts around here—"

"CHALLENGE!" It lacked some of the force of her first exclamation since she was pressed against the bed.

"What's with the French accent? I have enough trouble with your Irish one." Then an idea occurred to Seth, one that could wear off some of his excess energy and have a clear winner while neither of them truly lost. "But sure, if you want a _challenge_ ," he continued, rolling his eyes as he mimicked her intonation, "I have one for you. It even involves me getting on my knees, so you should like it." He sat back slowly, setting Becky free, but all she did was flip over onto her back so she could see him. _That . . . is not going to help me win this challenge,_ he thought, gaze drawn to where her leggings had inched down over her hips.

"Ooh. Do tell." Becky's eyebrows spiked up as she smiled lazily.

 _Get to it, Rollins,_ he told himself, moving back a bit further. _Before she wins by default._ "A 'Beat the Clock' challenge of sorts." He wanted to run his hands up her thighs, but she would probably consider that cheating, and if she yelled _Challenge!_ again in that ridiculous voice, he wouldn't be able to keep from laughing. "Whoever makes the other one climax faster wins."

Becky narrowed her eyes as she considered his challenge. "And the on-your-knees bit comes into play where, exactly?"

"At the obvious part?" Seth chuckled softly. "We'll time it on my phone. I'll even go first so you know what time you have to beat." His motivation wasn't entirely generous, of course; he was already hard, so if Becky went down on him first, she would win too easily. Plus if he had a number in mind, he might be able to control himself just long enough to win. _Might_. Smirking, he pulled her closer to the edge of the bed. "Which you won't."

"Wait, wait." Becky grabbed his shoulders as he knelt and started tugging her shoes off. "What are the rules? Before you try to disqualify me on a technicality."

"You can't obstruct your opponent. Only mouths, tongues, teeth, and hands are allowed," Seth declared, tossing her shoes out of the way and grabbing his phone from his fanny pack. Then he thought of some of the things she could do just by digging her fingers in and added, "But _no nails_."

"Coward." It came out breathier this time, and when Seth glanced up at her, he could see her cheeks already starting to flush. "Does disrobing time count? Because that involves hands and you haven't started the clock. . . ."

Seth rolled his eyes. "Not shoes, Irish. Trust me, I know your kinks by now, and feet aren't one of them. But fine, fine. . . ." He opened up his timer app and paused with his thumb over the screen. Taking clothes off could be half the fun, but he didn't have the luxury of a slow burn; better to get the leggings off as soon as possible. "Three, two . . . one." He jabbed the screen and barely looked to make sure it was counting before he yanked Becky's leggings off so quickly she nearly followed them off the bed. Then he grabbed her thighs hard enough to bruise— _SmackDown's not till Friday,_ he thought, _so no one will see_ —and got to work.

" _God_." Becky clutched at the bed covers and swore. "Remind me . . . again . . . why we stopped. . . ." A long moan broke her sentence in half. "Stopped having quickies . . . at the shows? _Oh god._ No. No, no, no, no. . . ."

Seth slowed, trying to catch a glimpse of her face. He hadn't thought about safe words and he was pretty sure Becky was mostly cursing herself, but he had to be sure. "Becks?" he began, raising his head slightly.

"Not that kind of _no!_ " she rasped, letting go of the blanket just long enough to shove his head back down, the challenge clearly forgotten. Then she slipped into Irish, the words strange and serpentine, and Seth barely had a chance to start teasing her with his fingers in earnest before she came, one foot nearly dislocating his shoulder as she jerked.

"I'll even be sporting," Seth said smugly, "and give you a few extra seconds." He grinned down at her as he stopped the clock on his phone. It wasn't the fastest he had ever been—some of their locker room quickies had been almost painfully quick—but he felt confident she wouldn't be able to beat his time. "Do you want a few moments to catch your breath?" He sat on the edge of the bed and kicked off his shoes.

"You are a horrible bastard," Becky sighed, "and I love you." She stayed sprawled on the bed for a few moments before forcing herself to sit up. When she saw the time she had to beat, she swore again. "Dammit."

"So do you love me _because_ I'm horrible or in spite of it?" Kissing her was a gamble, he supposed, but he found her impossible to resist when her eyes were all dark and hazy. Becky melted into the kiss for a moment before she moved off the bed. 

"Neither." Becky's laugh, low and throaty, undid some of the control Seth had won back. Watching her kneel, half-naked and languid, between his legs didn't help either. "Just facts."

Seth leaned back on his elbows. It wasn't very comfortable, but he wouldn't be in the position for long and watching her lick him was one of his favourite things. _This is a challenge, Rollins,_ he reminded himself as Becky scooted closer, reaching for the waistband of his jeans. "Ready when you are," he said, pressing a button to save his time before reprogramming the clock to beep once his established time was passed.

"I can see that." Becky rolled her shoulders and scooted closer. "Three, two. . . ."

It felt like Becky had barely said _one_ , but she already had his jeans down just far enough to lick him and Seth had to jab at his phone twice to get the clock going. _I overestimated me or underestimated her or—_ A groan worked its way up from his belly as Becky curled a hand around his balls, tugging gently. When she laughed, he shuddered from head to toe. "That is so not fair, Irish," he muttered. She took him a bit deeper in her mouth each time and eventually he had to give up on watching so he could tug on his hair, hoping the little sparks of pain would keep his orgasm at bay for a while. When he managed to glance over at his phone, the clock seemed to be moving impossibly slow. "I think . . . I should have charged . . . it."

Becky laughed again, running one hand up his abs, and even through the rush of arousal, Seth could feel the tiny muscle movements in her hand as she stopped herself from using her nails on his skin just in time. "Do it," he begged, thoughts of disqualifications and winning drowning in a sea of want. What was the challenge again? What did the winner get? He couldn't remember and he didn't care.

"Uh-uh," Becky murmured around him, shaking her head just enough to give him an extra jolt that made his muscles tense. She had just started to switch tactics, mouth and hand trading places as she started stroking his cock and licking his balls, when his phone beeped. "That can't be—"

" _Rebecca, please._ " He reached down, hoping to find her hair, but he grabbed her hand instead. "God, if you don't come back here, I swear. . . ."

"What's that? Winner gets topped by the loser? Sounds about right." Becky peeled her shirt off before she straddled him, swearing under her breath as she eased down on him. "Congrats."

"You are horrible," Seth growled, grabbing her ass and pulling her closer, "and I love you." The shudder that went through Becky's thighs, so tight around his hips, made him think she wasn't too far off an orgasm either, and he reluctantly moved his hands off her just long enough to push his jeans down more so she wouldn't scratch her legs on his zipper.

Now that the game was over, Becky pushed Seth's shirt up and ran her nails down his chest, digging them in every time he moaned. "What was the winner actually supposed to get?" she asked, eyes drifting shut as she concentrated on riding him.

It was Seth's turn to laugh then, the nerves in his fingers buzzing as he reached up to unhook Becky's bra. "Didn't think that far ahead," he admitted, his breathing ragged. "Next time." For the next couple hours, he didn't think about much at all, and he made sure Becky couldn’t either.

*

Becky's past three days had been pretty great. Getting to do a spot with The Rock on Fox's first Friday Night SmackDown had been delightful, with the added bonus of beating up on Corbin. Then Sunday had been Hell in a Cell, where her match with Sasha was widely regarded as the best of the night, as well as a Match of the Year contender. Seth hadn't been so lucky, with yet another attack from The Fiend on Friday night and a convoluted match at the pay-per-view. The heckling afterwards was so rude that Becky almost stormed out, kayfabe be damned, but Charlotte kept her backstage. "Going out there won't help him," she'd said, and on some level Becky knew she was right. It didn't make it any easier to witness, though.

The next blow came on Monday night when they went to Creative. Becky had two segments, one right after the other: a brief chat on MizTV followed by a tag match with Charlotte versus Asuka and Kairi Sane. The talk show would be predictable, but Becky's eyes lit up when she started reading through the general run-through of the tag match. " _Yes!_ " Pumping her fist in victory, she did a little victory dance. "Heel Asuka! FINALLY!" When Seth didn't comment right away, she turned to see him staring blankly down at his copy of the script. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Seth flipped through his pages slowly and deliberately so she could see. Normally someone in Creative highlighted each wrestler's relevant parts for them; if someone had more than one segment, sometimes they used different colours for continuity, in case the second part ended up being filmed before the first. Seth's script was pure black and white. "Nothing." He jabbed at a small video editing note on one page. "A highlight package. That's it. It's like they're trying to pretend the damn match never even happened."

"Seth, don't." Becky set her script aside and hugged him tightly, burying her face in his shoulder. They'd both been aching on Sunday night, but she had done whatever she could to console him. Once they had finally cuddled up to sleep, they barely moved for the rest of the night, content to be warm and quiet and together. Now, though, she could see all the frustration and doubt starting to seep back into his gaze. "You did nothing wrong. Neither did Bray. Creative should have known that was a shitty ending."

"Sometimes I think Cody had the right idea," he mumbled into her hair, so quiet that not even Joshy, who was attending most of the events with them that weekend since they were so close to his home base for once, could hear him.

Becky kept her arms tight around him and stayed quiet. With so much riding on Fox's investment in SmackDown, mentioning AEW backstage in the current climate, was touchy; some people avoided even talking about Dusty Rhodes, let alone his sons. _It's just frustration,_ she told herself as she stroked his back, using one finger to trace his bushido tattoo. He didn't really want to leave. She had just re-signed this year and he wouldn't want them to be separated. "If you don't have a segment," she suggested, "why don't you and Joshy take off and go hang out? I can get Char to drive me back to the hotel." Bakersfield wasn't that long of a drive to Los Angeles, but they had booked a hotel anyway just because they were both so sore from Sunday.

Seth shook his head. "You know we're supposed to stick around just in case we're needed." The bitterness in his tone made Becky's guts twist a bit. He tried to muster up a smile for her, but it was small and strained. "Besides, I want to watch your match, and you know how much I like your rose gold gear."

"Hm, wonder why?" Becky went on tiptoe to kiss him, whispering a few loaded promises in his ear, and then stepped back. "Look after my ring for me?" She hated taking it off, but it wasn't safe to wear it while she was wrestling, and she hoped that leaving it with Seth might make him feel like part of her was with him. When his fingers closed around it, making it look so delicate and small, she kissed his hand and gave him a wink. While Seth was tucking her engagement ring in his fanny pack, she went over to Joshy and gave him a hug. "Watch him for me, will you?" she whispered in his ear.

"Always do," he replied. When Becky headed off to the women's locker room, he gave her a salute. "Kick their asses, champ."

A post-PPV Raw should have been electric, but this one felt off from the start. The segment with Lana and Lashley had almost everyone backstage wincing in sympathy for their fellow wrestlers forced into such an overdone storyline. The Last Woman Standing match—Becky steadfastly refused to use the word _lady_ when it involved Lacey Evans—could have been amazing, but Lacey's constant count-cancelling antics made it feel like it lasted an hour. _At least Nattie won,_ Becky thought, already feeling sorry for whoever was chosen to feud with Lacey next. The woman was strong, no doubt, but she was killing people's momentum.

When it was finally time for MizTV, Becky just wanted to be over. "You look like a little old lady," Charlotte teased her, tugging on her hair, "waiting for her appointment to be done so she can get home to watch her stories."

Becky laughed, but Charlotte's comment wasn't far off the mark. Now that she had Seth, she had a reason not to linger, not to devote every spare second to wrestling. Throughout the whole interview, which was full of their standard back-and-forth banter, all she could think about was how Seth was doing, and how she would much rather be in the back with him. _You have a match,_ she kept telling herself. _With Asuka and Kairi. This is going to be awesome. Get your head together._

Even with the four women giving their all, the match wasn't what it could have been. She had to fight not to smile when Asuka spat the green mist, though. Asuka deserved so much better than what she was getting, and if a match with Becky and Charlotte could help spark that, Becky would happily take an extra shower or two to scrub off all the green.

When Seth and Joshy met her backstage after the match, she spread her arms wide. "Orange hair, green mist: how much more Irish can I get?" she declared, sobering a bit when Joshy motioned for her to pose for a picture. "Can I get that for Twitter? Maybe if I start a fight with Asuka, they'll actually give her another title shot."

"Sure." Joshy tapped a few buttons on his phone. "Let me know if you don't get it. The signals back here kinda suck." Then he shot Becky a look. "I'll go grab you some water from Catering."

"Thanks. I'll be in the showers." Becky looked down at herself and laughed as they started to walk towards the locker rooms. "I'd hug you," she told Seth, "but I don't know how well this green comes out of clothes. You'll have to settle for a kiss, I guess."

" _Settle_ ," Seth echoed with a half-grin. "Well, if I have to. . . ." She still didn't like the melancholy in his eyes, but it had lessened somewhat. He even chuckled a bit as he spun her around to see just how far the green mist had reached. "If it doesn't wash off, at least it'll go well with your bruises from the cage." Then he grabbed her chin gently, examining her face. "Not much that's green free," he declared. "I might have to—"

" _Settle_." Grinning, Becky backed up just out of his reach. If they didn't have a friend along with them, she would have talked to the other girls and asked for some privacy in the showers for half an hour, but that wouldn't be fair to Joshy; Seth could wait until they got to the hotel, and she would make it worth his while. "Or just not get a kiss, I guess. Up to you."

That finally got a genuine smile out of him, small as it was. "I'll take my chances with the green," he said, leaning down to kiss her. 

It felt wrong not to have her hands in his hair or on his back, but Becky didn't want to get green everywhere; she was already a bit surprised by how far it had spread on her. When they moved apart, she was glad to see some sparkle in his eyes again. "I'll be as fast as I can." But first she took a quick detour to Wardrobe. "I hope this is easy to clean," she told the person at the table, pointing down at her ring gear. 

The woman nodded absently, more focused on the jacket she was repairing. "Shouldn't be a problem. You name a piece of clothing, we've gotten the stain out it." Reaching under the table, she pulled out a large, clear plastic bag and handed it to Becky. "Just put everything in there. We'll worry about the details. You don't need it in a rush, do you?"

Becky shook her head. She did like wearing the rose gold gear because it reminded her of her ring, but she had another outfit that had some smaller rose gold accents. "No. I've got options. It's all that shampoo money, you know."

That made the wardrobe woman laugh. "What are you going to do with your cereal money?"

"According to the internet," Becky replied, heading back to where Seth was leaning against the wall, waiting for her, "I need better hair extensions. Maybe that'll be next on the list." She grimaced as soon as she said it. Both she and Seth had promised not to take online comments to heart anymore, but it was a hard habit to break. Luckily Seth hadn't heard her or if he had, he was choosing to let it slide. "I hope this leads to a feud with Asuka. She's so great to work with."

Heedless of the green mist, Seth slung an arm around her shoulders. "Just in time for TLC too."

"Evolution 2 would have been nicer," Becky sighed, letting her head rest against him, "but Hunter seems to think that'll happen next year." Part of her wanted to ask what Seth had meant by his earlier remark about Cody, but there were still too many people milling around backstage; that was a conversation better left for the hotel, or at least the car. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Joshy near the women's locker room, positioned so he could make a quick retreat if he had to. She waved so he knew he didn't have to lurk. "I'll be quick, I promise." Then she hopped up and kissed Seth again, getting a bit of green in his beard. "And then I'm taking my ring back."

Seth's smirk was soft at the edges. "Too late. I already gave it to someone else. Creative wants us to have a love triangle storyline with Asuka, so. . . ."

"Creative does," Becky retorted, "or you do?" Before Seth could reply, Becky ducked into the women's locker room. After greeting the few women who were there, she peeled off her stained garb, shoved it in the wardrobe bag, and took her shower gear out of her bag. The green mist was easier to wash away than she had feared, and she was definitely glad her hair was mostly unscathed. By the time she was done in the shower, the other women had left and she dressed quickly; being the last one or only one in the locker room now felt odd in a wistful way.

When she left the locker room, Seth and Joshy were looking at something on Seth's phone. As soon as Becky headed towards them, though, Seth quickly tucked his phone in his pocket. "Good to go after we drop that off at Wardrobe?" he asked.

"Yeah. I don't have any promos." Becky shot him a suspicious glare, but Seth just took the bag of stained gear from her and slung it over his shoulder. "What were you looking at?" she asked flatly. She still hadn't figured out how Seth had managed to design her engagement ring without her suspecting anything, so now she was extra curious whenever he didn't want her seeing or overhearing something.

"Football stuff," Joshy replied easily. "Stats for the fantasy football league."

"Right." But Becky didn't push. Seth was talking and smiling again, if not quite as much as normal, and that was more important. It didn't mean she wouldn't sneak a peek at his phone the first chance she got, though.


	30. Drafted

In the past year, lot of things that had happened in WWE didn't make much sense. Brock Lesnar winning Money in the Bank when he was basically handed a title shot whenever he wanted one. Not making room on the pay-per-view schedule for a second all-women's event. Seth knew even his seemingly whirlwind romance with Becky would make that list for some people. But the way the WWE Draft was designed was right up there. He could see the wisdom in having two different selection pools—otherwise all the big names would be taken on Friday night, leaving only the mid-carders to be announced on the following Monday—but that also took some of the luster off the coveted number-one spot since there would technically be two of them. Like always, there was the caveat that tag teams could be split up, but with the current state of the tag division, that didn't seem likely.

And then they scheduled a match between him and Roman on Friday Night SmackDown to determine which show got the number one draft pick. Suspiciously, while they had both been told the outcome of the match—Seth would win, securing the first pick for Raw—they weren't given any other details. Seth wasn't in Friday's pool, but Becky was. Even though the brass assured him that the policy of keeping committed couples together was still intact, he wasn't convinced: Becky had had a phenomenal year, and if whoever won the first pick _didn't_ choose her, it would look highly suspicious. When he told Roman that in the locker room, his friend laughed. "You saying I'm not a catch anymore, bro?"

"Nah, man, you know what I mean. She's one of the first women to main-event WrestleMania. She's been on two magazine covers this year. She's the first woman on a WWE 2K cover. Whenever WWE wants a representative at an event, she's one of the first people they ask." Seth had found that exhausting at first, but the more he watched Becky interact with fans—especially kids—the more he realized how genuinely _good_ she was. _If I had just gotten my shit together sooner,_ he thought, _I could have had so many great years with her already._ He wouldn't let himself dwell on that, though; they were together now and he was happy and, more importantly, he could see a life beyond wrestling for the first time in years. "If you had first pick, who would you take?"

Roman held his hands up in surrender. "Am I allowed to answer that honestly without you hitting me?" When Seth rolled his eyes and nodded, Roman went back to lacing his boots. "Then yeah, of course I'd pick Becky. Inside the ring or outside, she's a draw. That's a quality not everyone has." Then he stood and shook out his arms. "You worried they're going to split you up? Don't be. Even if they don't have you two in storylines together, they know you're a draw as a couple." Heading for the locker room door, he winked at Seth and gave him a friendly punch to the shoulder. "Or are you just worried that _you_ won't be picked first on Monday, and that you'll never live it down at home?"

Running a hand through his hair as it wet it down, Seth chuckled. "I'd say I'd never hear the end of it, but if Becky thought it bothered me, she wouldn't say a word. She's good like that. When Lesnar cashed in on me, she wasn't going to put her belt out. . . ." He trailed off, not sure how to explain that Becky liked to set out her titles. "As long as we're together, she'll be happy," he said at last. "Same with me."

With a nod, Roman held out his fist for a bump. "Me too, if only because you're a mopey ass when you haven't seen her for a few days. See you out there, man." The locker room door had barely shut behind Roman when Seth heard him burst out laughing, and then the door inched open. "Hurry your ass up, Rollins. Don't keep The Man waiting."

"Yeah, yeah. Be right out, Becks." Seth tied his boots quickly, grabbed his wrist cuffs, and headed out into the corridor, where Becky and Roman were both looking at her phone and laughing at something. Draping an arm around her shoulder, Seth shook his head when he saw that Becky was showing Roman the video of a bulldog that obsessively carried metal bowls around the house. Thanks to her, he had already seen it four times. "If you think this is going to help your campaign to get a dog. . . ."

"The world needs more cuteness," Becky said firmly, shutting the video down once it had finished. "I bet you JoJo agrees." She glanced up at Roman and raised an eyebrow.

"And that right there," Roman said, pointing at Becky's phone, "is why I won't let my daughter text you. You're a horrible influence. I'm going to check Creative for updates before you try to convince me to get her a dog."

Becky half-turned and wrapped her arms around Seth's waist. "So? How does the match go?"

For a moment, Seth contemplated not telling her. It wasn't to tease her or to draw out the suspense; he had better ways of getting under her skin now. "Raw's going to win the first pick," he said at last, "though they're not exactly saying how, which makes me suspicious."

"You're thinking interference?" Becky asked, resting her head against his chest. "I know you think they're aiming for a heel turn for you, but then the only way that would make you win is if you cheat and don't get caught."

Seth shook his head. "I don't know. I don't know what to think anymore. Some of their decisions lately have been. . . ." He forced himself to stop. SmackDown's move to Fox was a big deal and cameras were everywhere; the wrong live mic in the wrong spot could make for an awkward sound bite. But he also wasn't sure what to say. In a way, the sense of surprise was welcome, even invigorating; he had been wrestling for long enough now that there wasn't much left that could shock him. When the surprise had consequences like these, though, that was another story. He still wasn't sure that Vince didn't blame him and Becky for the feud against Baron and Lacey falling flat. "Doesn't matter, right? Red brand wins, so Raw picks first." He rested his chin on her head. "And of course they'll pick you, because who wouldn't?"

"Only because you're in the other pool," Becky countered, tilting her face up for a kiss. It didn't last as long as either of them would have liked, since they were trying to be mindful of the cameras, but her eyes were shimmering when she pulled back. "And clearly Roman's a monster now if he's not going to get JoJo a dog after seeing that video."

"Or maybe he and Galina prefer their interior design to be a little less _bowled_. What?" Seth held a hand to his chest when Becky narrowed her eyes. "Hey, if The Man is too good for puns now, someone has to shoulder the burden, right?" Then he held out his wrist cuffs to her. "For luck?"

Becky kissed him again, her sigh easing into a chuckle. "Always." She kissed each wrist before she put its cuff on and secured it in place. "Don't hurt Roman too much. I kinda like him."

"Ditto." After a last kiss, Seth headed down to Creative as well, trying not to dread their newest instructions. He was going to be in a key match _and_ he got to face Roman; all in all, it was a good night. "Hey," he said, poking his head around the doorway, "any updates about how my match with Roman goes? I know I win for Raw, but do we just do our thing?"

Seth didn't recognize the man at the desk, who barely glanced up at him in acknowledgment. "For the most part. They want you two to include some of your classic counters—you know, 'these men are as close as brothers; they know each other so well, they know how to read each other' shit. And then The Fiend appears and—"

"Again?" Seth turned and stalked away as the man kept on. He caught a few words— _hole_ and _smoke_ stood out—and he wished he had more time to spend with Becky before his match to help him calm down, but they had dallied too long at the hotel. _Not that I regret THAT,_ he chuckled to himself, going to gorilla position.

A match with Roman was always a pleasure. After his leukemia had returned, though, each match felt that much more special, and Seth vowed to appreciate every chance he was given to square off against his Shield brother in the ring. Setting the tone with a friendly fistbump, the match started out as a clinic of solid wrestling between two men who, much like the guy in Creative had said, knew each other's strengths and weaknesses. As time wore on, though, paranoia gnawed on Seth's nerves. Roman hadn't said anything about the Fiend being involved: did he not know, or were there actually other plans in place? Everyone knew Becky loved SmackDown; maybe Fox was going to draft her and then Seth would be left hanging all weekend, hoping they would pick him as well.

"Bro, ease up." Roman's voice was a hiss because Seth was pressing his face to the mat. 

"Sorry." But as much as Seth tried to clear his mind, he kept trying to think three steps ahead—something he couldn't afford to do against an opponent as strong as Roman. When he started to set up another stomp, he pounded the mat as much to focus himself as to rally the audience—and then the familiar darkness fell. When the erratic amber lights came on, Seth quickly glanced around. Thankfully, he couldn't spot Roman, so maybe he had rolled out of the ring to safety. The bad news was that he couldn't see The Fiend either, at least not until he turned and saw the hole in the ring, not that far from his feet.

He would never get used to the mandible claw. The feel of having someone else's hand in his mouth was just disturbing, so it wasn't difficult to act terrified. _Hole. The guy in Creative said something about a hole,_ Seth thought vaguely, trying not to gag. _What else?_ He really should have been more patient and heard the guy out.

Then The Fiend's other hand wrapped around his neck and started to pull him forward, down into the hole. _Smoke_ , Seth thought, mere seconds before it appeared. After the first plume went up, he felt The Fiend's hands shoving him back up through the hole, and he thrashed around on the mat, trying to catch his breath. When the abrasive shrieks started again, the lights didn't dim, but the crowd went crazy; The Fiend must have been coming back out of the hole. The darkness fell again as Seth was scooting backwards, accompanied only by maniacal laughter; the shrieks returned later, when lights revealed The Fiend at the top of the ramp, looking back at the carnage he had wrought.

It wasn't until he staggered backstage that Seth stopped to wonder about the official verdict of the match. Roman didn't have anything to do with the appearance of The Fiend—at least Seth really hoped they weren't going down that road—so it wasn't really interference, and Roman didn't deserve to get disqualified because of it. _Two shitty finishes in one week,_ Seth thought, batting the curtain away from his face. _Someone in Booking isn't a fan._

"Seth? Don't worry: you won. We'll talk later." He only realized it was Stephanie McMahon after she had already hurried past him, on her way out to the stage area to announce the first round of draft picks.

"What?" Maybe he had hit his head when The Fiend pulled him under the ring; everything sounded a bit distant and watery. He flinched when something touched his back, blinking to refocus as Becky appeared in front of him, holding her hands up. "Becks?"

"Are you okay?" Becky reached up and cupped his face with both hands, tilting his face towards the light. "I saw a piece of metal in the ring after The Fiend popped up. Maybe it wasn't set up properly?" Then she eased a hand into his hair. Seth steadied himself for a kiss, but her fingers danced along the back of his head, searching for bumps or blood. "Let's get you to Medical."

Seth wanted to protest, but he knew he had asked the same of her too many times; if he wanted her to be safe, he had to do the same. "The draft?" he managed. This time when Becky's hand slid around his waist, he didn't jump. "The match?"

Becky kept propelling him forward. "You won by DQ or something. Raw got first pick, of course." She slowed only to kiss his cheek. "Like there was any doubt."

"They picked you?" Seth managed to wrap an arm around her shoulders and tried to match his pace to hers. When she didn't answer right away, he squeezed Becky's shoulder, distantly thinking it felt stiffer than usual. "Raw drafted you, right?"

"Yeah, I went first." Becky slowed them to a stop and knocked on a door, waiting a moment before opening it. "And you'll be first on Monday, and then the internet will hate us all over again. It'll be great. My pool of bitter tears was starting to dry up." Then she turned to the doctor. "He's all yours. I'll be outside."

_Sit on the bed. Look at the light. Raise your arm._ Seth followed the doctor's instructions dutifully. He'd had concussions before and knew this wasn't one; he was just a bit dazed, running on too little sleep and perhaps too much caffeine. Winning the top spot for Raw had been tonight's goal: objective achieved. Now he needed to figure out what to do about The Fiend.

*

Just as Seth had reservations about his first-draft-pick match, Becky started having doubts as soon as Sasha was pulled from the card. "It's going to be Charlotte," she said, shutting her eyes and sighing as Seth pulled into the arena parking lot. "Just like the hundred other times."

"And you'll beat her, just like . . . well, like most of those hundred other times." Seth's lips twitched in a smile, but a darkness had settled in his eyes on Friday night and never really lifted.

"Except Sasha could interfere. Or Bayley. Hell, maybe it'll be Sister Abigail at this point." Once Seth had parked, Becky unbuckled her seat belt so quickly, it nearly hit her shoulder as it retracted. Seth beat her to the back of the SUV, though, and she had to practically climb over him just to grab one of the bags. "Give me something to carry," she demanded. "I need to keep my hands busy so I don't smack people."

Seth's smile widened as he handed her a tote bag. "I'd suggest some other things you could do with your hands, but that's why we're late in the first place. Again."

"First of all," Becky retorted, "we're not late. We're just . . . barely on time. Second of all, you certainly weren't complaining at the time, but I guess if it's going to be a problem. . . ."

"No, no problem." Seth backed her up against the side of the SUV and kissed her, catching the tote bag's handle when it slipped from her grasp. "You're just used to main-eventing, that's all."

"What a shame it's gone to your head." While Seth blinked in confusion, the pun slowly dawning on him, Becky ducked under his arms, grabbed her bags plus an extra one, and started to head inside. By the time he locked up the SUV, gathered the rest of the bags, and caught up to her, Seth was still chuckling. "Hurry up. I need to get to Creative and find out if I rescue you from the evil blue clutches of SmackDown."

"What happened to bleeding blue?" Seth set one arm's worth of bags down so he could hug her. 

It would have been easy to make another joke, make some quip about riding with someone else, but since Seth had been out of sorts since Hell in a Cell, Becky didn't want to add to his insecurities. "You happened," she said simply, giving him a soft kiss. "I can be happy wherever you are. Raw, SmackDown—they could even put us back on NXT. Doesn't matter." She reached up and tugged on his bun. "You're my favourite show."

"Careful, Irish, your feelings are showing." But Seth still put the rest of the bags down and held her close for a long moment until they heard footsteps approaching. "We better get going," he said reluctantly. "I think I saw Peyton. I don't know about you, but I don't want to get _awww_ -ed to death."

"Nope, definitely not." Becky gave Seth another kiss. "I'll find you after I'm dressed." Then she grabbed her bags and headed to Creative, dreading the run-around she was likely to get. After the unsatisfying end to Seth's match against Roman, she wasn't holding out much hope for her bout, especially now that it was against Charlotte. 

She had just rounded the corner when she spotted a bright red jacket. "Hi, bestie. I was looking for you." Charlotte had a script in each hand and held one out to Becky. "You win by roll-up," she added, kissing Becky's cheek. "I figured I'd spoil it for you so you didn't have to worry about winning your boy's spot."

Becky set all her things against the wall and flipped through the script. Their starting banter trod familiar ground and the match would go back and forth, but at least it looked like it would be even throughout. No cheating, no interference. "No holes in the mat? No Sister Abigail? That's a relief." Then she realized what Charlotte said and jabbed her in the side. "Oh, like they're going to separate you and your _papi_."

Charlotte draped an arm over Becky's shoulder. "Not if they're smart. Now go get ready before they change their minds."

Becky thought about asking Charlotte which show she preferred to be on, but there was no point. As long as she was with Andrade, it wouldn't matter much: Charlotte was guaranteed to get title shots—and reigns—wherever she was. "Someone's in a hurry to get her ass kicked."

With a wink, Charlotte half-turned and shook her ass in Becky's direction. "My ass has other plans tonight, Becks, and the sooner I can get to them and away from this farce of a draft, the happier I'll be."

"I'm with you there." After she got to the locker room, Becky set her script out on the bench and read it as she changed. They were given some latitude with their dialogue, which was nice; Creative must have assumed their history was fraught enough that they could come up with barbs on their own. Of course, sometimes those ones hurt the most, because Becky always wondered if there was an element of truth to them. She thought back to when Paige called her the least relevant of the women in NXT. Paige hadn't wanted to; she had gone to Becky as soon as she knew and apologized over and over, hugging her and telling her she didn't think anything of the sort. But even with all that love and reassurance, those words had still stung when Becky heard them out in the ring, under the unforgiving lights. It was a part of their history now, for better or worse, and while she didn't hold it against Paige, Becky would always remember it, whether she wanted to or not.

Once she was dressed, Becky tried to find Seth, but people backstage kept delaying her. Since the SmackDown half of the draft had been held in Las Vegas, every second person seemed to think they had quietly slipped off and gotten married, so most of her time was spent assuring well-wishers that they were still just engaged. When she finally caught a glimpse of Seth, he was mired in a similar-sounding conversation and she had mere minutes before she was due in the ring, so all she could do was wave.

As she walked out to the ring, Becky tried to soak it all in, not just her new entrance. She didn't think she was getting jaded; she didn't think her fondness for SmackDown was steeped in nostalgia. Raw had plenty going for it, after all, and she had been happy there for the past half a year, but it was hard to say how much of that was due to Seth.

Her dialogue passed in a blur. Charlotte's familiar music brought her back to the moment and she through all the talk about wanting to be friends again, she had to fight not to smile: Becky might not have been posting pictures with Charlotte anymore, but she still had to clear out her text threads at least once a week to make room for more. The real sucker punch, though, wasn't the one Charlotte threw at her face but the words that followed: _You make it SO DAMN HARD to be your friend!_

Ouch. Even if Charlotte didn't mean it—and Becky knew she didn't, as hard as it was to focus on that in the moment—it was another one of those moments that her mind would return to in her darker moods. "I love you, Becks, you know that," Charlotte whispered by her ear, head bowed, as she shoved Becky up against the apron outside the ring.

Becky focused on that throughout the match, even during the rather boring roll-up victory. She won the match; that was the main thing. Raw would draft Seth, and then she could relax for the rest of the night. As soon as she got backstage, she started looking for him, but the Iconics found her first. "Oh my god, Becky, you should have heard the commentary!" Billie trilled.

"Yeah, Charlotte, trying to steal our gal-pal shtick and everything." When Peyton stuck her tongue out, Becky turned and saw Charlotte approaching. 

Billie waved her friend into silence. "Like I was saying, _the commentary!_ Oh my god, ladies! It was hilarious. When Charlotte was doing the thigh clamp thing—"

Laughing, Charlotte wrapped an arm around Becky's shoulders and hugged her close. "You mean the push-up headscissors slam?"

The Iconics shared a look and shrugged. "Yeah, sure, okay, that. When you were doing that, Lawler was on commentary and said something like 'Charlotte just loves to rub it in'," Billie reported. "And I'm sure all the gays were like _WE KNOW! WE KNOW!_ "

"The gays know what?" Seth's voice cut through the Iconics' shrill laughter and they scurried away, leaving Becky and Charlotte to try explaining the joke.

Charlotte just shot Becky a sharp grin and took a step back. "They know that Becky has the best jaw line around." She reached over and gripped Becky's chin for emphasis. "That and her ponytail look are _huge_." Then she winked. "Catch you later, Becks!"

"Why do I get the feeling that small talk in the women's locker room is equal parts terrifying and bizarre?" Seth wrapped his arms around Becky's waist. "Thanks for the win, by the way."

"Thank the mighty roll-up." Becky leaned against him for a long moment, happy to be away from the cameras and the crush of people. "How many people have asked you if we got married in Vegas?"

Seth chuckled. "A thousand, it feels like."

"They're so uncreative. Clearly we're going to get married in Antarctica. Because I love the cold _so much_." Then she looked up at him. "I forgot to look at your parts in the script. What are you doing tonight?"

Seth's grin should have been warning enough, but it didn't register at the time; her brain was still letting go of the match and Charlotte's kayfabe barbs. "You'll have to wait to find out."

"As long as it's not a secret wedding or a live sex show," Becky declared. "My parents would never forgive you for . . . well, for either, but more so for the wedding."

"I know." Lowering his voice, he added, "And the live sex show can wait until we're at home." Then he started pulling her forward. "But I'm not on for a bit, so go get changed and we can hang out for a bit before I'm up."

Becky waited for him to follow up with a euphemism, but Seth behaved himself on the way to the locker room and stayed outside while she changed. He didn't even complain when she brought her phone along. It made her almost forget he still had a spot to do until they made their way back to the men's locker room.

When he emerged with a lighter in his hand, Becky knew the night was going to get interesting long before they ever made it home.


	31. MANniversary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Disclaimer: The video game Becky's playing isn't based off anything in particular, so don't read too much into it and please don't tell me I "got the details wrong".)

Becky was so used to sleeping on Seth that she wasn't sure why she even bothered having a pillow on her side of the bed anymore. He was still asleep when she started to wake, which was rare; he was usually the early riser of the two, if only because he normally had to nudge her if he wanted to get up for breakfast. It gave her a fleeting chance to admire his face when it was utterly peaceful, bathed in sunlight. When she shifted some of her weight onto her elbow, though, he started to stir. Opening one eye, he looked at her blearily. "You better not have my phone," he murmured, pulling her back down to his chest.

"Don't you want to take some I-woke-up-like-this selfies in bed like Charlotte and Andrade do?" She laughed against his chest. She hadn't even been going for his phone—at least not right then. He was planning something, though, and she had been trying to find hints as to what. "I'm sure the internet would love it."

"Ha." After glancing at the bedside table to make sure his phone was safe, Seth tightened his arms around Becky and snuggled deeper into the covers. "Charlotte's usually wearing something though, isn't she?" He ran a hand down her bare back to prove his point. "You're just trying to look for hints on my phone. Nice try."

Becky tried her most winsome pout. "But . . . but if it's a pug. . . ."

"I wouldn't pick out a dog without having you there." Yawning, Seth stretched a bit, rolling his shoulders while still cuddling Becky. "So stop looking and stop asking, or you aren't getting anything. Fuck, Irish, you must have driven your mother crazy at Christmas."

Settling her head on Seth's shoulder again, Becky laughed. "Just at Christmas? More like all year long, really. Poor woman. With all I put her through, you would have thought she'd have jumped for joy when I moved to Canada to wrestle."

Seth was quiet for a moment, letting his fingers sweep along Becky's back, almost as if he were tracing his own bushido tattoo there. "You're still staying here while I'm in Saudi?"

Becky nodded, letting her eyes drift shut. Seth was just far too comfortable for his own good. "Yeah, if it's cool with you. It's easier with the time zones for calling and stuff."

"Yeah, I'm cool with it. If you want to have some of the girls over for a party," Seth added, "feel free. Just let me know when it is so I know when to call you."

"So you don't show up on the video chat totally naked, you mean." Becky raised herself up enough to kiss him. "But I'll ask. I know Charlotte already has plans, but Sonya was saying she'd like to introduce her girlfriend to more of us, so they might want to come. Sarah and Liv are always fun, and Carmella will probably be missing Corey, so. . . ."

"Were you and Bayley and Sasha still dressing up as the SHE-ild?" He stretched out the E sound until Becky kissed him again.

"Bayley wants to, last I heard, and since Charlotte's not coming," Becky added as she settled back down against him, "we don't have to worry about not having someone for her to be. So we just have to decide who's who. Since Roman won't be here, I'll have to postpone being Mera until next year, I guess."

Seth raised an eyebrow. "Well, your pick should be obvious."

"Of course." Becky nuzzled his neck as she grinned. "Roman's the obvious choice. Or do you think Dean would be better?" When Seth shot her a look and started to tickle her, she tried to squirm free. "My hair's more his colour, but Bayley's more in lunatic mode right now." Then she pretended to take a moment to consider. "Then again, all your clothes are already here, so you would be the easy choice."

"Easy?" Seth's chuckle seemed to echo through her collarbones. "You think I'm easy?"

"No. I _know_ you're easy." Becky kissed her way as far down his chest as he could while he still had his arms around her. "I'm glad you only have the one match there," she said softly, knowing her voice was muffled against his skin. Seth would have happily wrestled both with Team Hogan and in his title defence, because he believed in being a fighting champion. "I know how stoked you were to be on Hogan's team, though. . . ."

"Another time." There was a hint of wistfulness in his voice, but nothing despairing. "WWE still has a lot of years left in their Saudi contract, and you know they love the legends over there. Better to be safe, right?" He raised her left hand to his mouth and kissed it. "I have plans to consider now, you know."

"Plans? What plans?" She booped his nose and quickly pulled her hand away. "I thought the ring was just a souvenir from Hawaii. You mean I'm _not_ getting a ring every time we go on a vacation?"

"Don't even." Seth squeezed her until she squeaked, then pulled her on top of him. "Now are you going to let me go have breakfast?"

Becky poked his ribs. "You pulled me up here," she countered. "If you didn't want me on top—"

Before she had a chance to wiggle her hips down a bit and tease him, Seth had slid out from underneath her and pinned her down. "Then what?" His mouth was right by her ear, and his growl sent a shiver straight down to her toes.

"Then. . . ." It was hard to concentrate when he was pressing against her, his beard rough against her shoulders. "Um. Then you should find out which games Asuka is good at so I can practice. I'll have to defend U2D2 soon."

"Later." Seth started kissing his way down her back, and Becky let herself enjoy the distraction. She would have time to investigate when he was gone. _This_ , on the other hand, was something she was definitely going to miss, so she had to partake as often as she could before he left.

*

There was always a lot to do before international events, but Seth had gotten used to Becky preparing right alongside him. She had been helping him get ready for his Saudi Arabia trip, but it still felt somewhat bittersweet to him. After she had finished packing one of his bags, Seth pulled her to his chest and kissed her. "Thanks, babe. I need to go out quick and pick up a few things, but I shouldn't be gone long."

That, naturally, piqued Becky's curiosity, and she leaned back to give him a suspicious look. "I can go if you want. Then you can keep packing." After a beat, she rolled her eyes and added, "I won't hurt your precious car, I promise."

"I know, but I'm good. I need to stop at the school anyway, so I'll do it all in one shot." Then he ruffled Becky's hair. "And no, I'm not going to pick up a dog. No snooping while I'm gone."

Becky rolled her eyes. "There's nowhere left to look anyway, unless you have an attic." He had already caught her peeking in the highest kitchen cabinets, almost making her tumble from the countertop when he had surprised her. It was all more amusing than invasive, especially since he knew better than to try hiding anything in his house anymore.

"Then you can stop hunting around. Don't you have a Halloween party to plan?" He kissed her again and grabbed his keys. "I should be back in a couple hours." What he would be coming back to was anyone's guess. Sometimes reverse psychology seemed to work on Becky, but then there were times when her reasoning made no sense to him. It was going to make married life very interesting, to say the least.

He did have errands to run; that much was true. But he also had a small surprise waiting for her at Black and Brave that he wanted to pick up before he forgot about it again. It was technically late now, but he didn't think Becky would mind. Getting away from the school could be hard if students were in session and wanting to ask questions, but he managed to get in and out in less than fifteen minutes. The errands took a bit longer, mostly because fans kept recognizing him, so he was impressed that he managed to get back home in about two and a half hours. "Becks?" he called out as he entered.

Seth couldn't hear her, but he could hear _something_. Background music, like a soundtrack, and . . . gunfire? Leaving his bags on the floor and part of Becky's surprise on the kitchen counter, he went downstairs to his gaming den.

"Stupid gun empties so quickly!" Becky swore, utterly oblivious to his arrival. She had pushed the coffee table out of the way and was sitting against the couch, her legs stretched out in front of her. "Am I supposed to throw the damn thing at them? It might do more!"

"You just need to reload." Seth chuckled when she jumped, the controller dropping into her lap. He picked it up and pressed a button, bringing up a small map. "The red dots show where you can get more ammo." Then he paused the game and looked at the screen, fervently hoping she hadn't messed with any of his pre-sets or saved games. "You've barely made it into the town! How are you out of ammo already?" He flopped down on the couch and stretched out behind her.

"Because I have no idea what I'm doing, obviously. And I was testing what all the buttons did." Becky shook her head. "Asuka probably won't pick a shooting game, right?"

A glint off to the side caught Seth's eye and he saw Becky's UpUpDownDown belt sitting in the armchair, almost like a coach watching their student. "Holy shit," he swore softly, playing with her ponytail. "When you said you were going to practice, I thought you were joking. . . ."

Becky half-heartedly reached back to bat his hand away. "There's so many damn games! Fighting games and racing games and quest games and shooting games and puzzle games. It's bad enough that I could be facing _anyone_ , but I don't even know what type of game to prepare for! And Asuka's going to challenge me soon. I can feel it. . . ."

"Are you sure she's not going to challenge you for the Raw women's title instead?" Seth kept playing with her hair, careful not to mess up her extensions. There was nothing in the bags upstairs that needed to be put away immediately, but he was a bit surprised that it was this hard to pull Becky's attention away from the game. She wasn't a complete novice and she even played with him from time to time, but he never thought she would start taking UpUpDownDown seriously, even with her fixation on being Becky Two Belts.

"She's coming for both, but I at least know what to do in a ring!" Becky gestured at the screen and took the game off pause. "Are there . . . shooting combinations I need to know, or can I just button-mash like I did against you?"

Since he was sitting behind her, Seth didn't have to hide his flinch. As far as he could see, she hadn't made a mess of game shelves, but then he flashed back to their UpUpDownDown match and the thought of her manhandling his controllers like that made him wince. _I'll get her a set tomorrow,_ he thought, calming himself. Then he reached over her shoulder and started pointing out buttons. "That switches which gun you're using; it'll show you in the top left of the screen. If you hold that button down, you'll crouch—"

"Why are you helping me? You're still mad that I beat you. . . ." Becky followed his instructions, though, ducking into an abandoned building so she could practice away from the majority of the action; the worst that could happen, after all, was that her character would be killed and she would have to start over, and that happened to her so often in video games that it didn't bother her much anymore.

"Because if you die right away, you'll keep playing until you _don't_ die right away," Seth reasoned, "but if you manage to live for a while, you'll be done faster, and there might be a surprise for you upstairs. . . ."

Becky paused the game again and tilted her head back, nearly hitting Seth's chin. "What kind of surprise? It's not a dog," she said quickly, "because there's no way you could have kept quiet about that."

"You'll have to come upstairs if you want to find out," Seth teased, moving closer to kiss her. "Or I guess I can have it on my own. . . ."

"That means it's food. Or coffee." Becky sniffed the air, but there was no tell-tale aroma of freshly brewed coffee. "Food. Dessert?" As she rose to her feet, she spared a glance for the television, her character paused in the act of switching guns. "I'll practice later," she declared. "And I'll pick a different game. Asuka won't pick a shooting one."

Seth rolled off the couch and helped her shut down the console, more for his own peace of mind than to make the process go faster. When Becky tried to sneak upstairs before him, though, he caught her around the waist. "Patience. You don't even have to snoop for this one."

Becky smiled innocently as he set her back on her feet and headed upstairs. "I'm only snooping because I'm going to miss you," she said as she followed him, "and if I have a bunch of the girls over for Halloween, I need to know in advance if the surprises are . . . shareable or not." 

He had to laugh. They were still too wary to send anything explicit by phone, but they had left plenty of surprises for each other in their respective homes that were best kept private. "You'll know," he replied simply, taking her by the hand and leading her to the kitchen. "Or if you're that worried, I could just keep all the surprises until I'm back. . . "

"And I could rearrange all your video games while you're gone. . . ." Becky laughed when a jolt of momentary panic stopped him in his tracks. "I mean, I'll be so focussed on practicing and all. It's so easy to put a game back in the wrong box, right? Happens all the time, I imagine. . . ."

Seth didn’t even want to contemplate having to go through all his games to make sure they were in the right box. "You're horrible. And I'm changing all my passwords before I leave. Come on." He tugged on her hand and led her into the kitchen, where two glossy boxes sat on the island. "The smaller one stays far the fuck away from me. You can have those when I'm gone."

Naturally, that made Becky go to that box first. As soon as she recognized the label on the box from her favourite chocolatier in Chicago, she did a little happy dance, drumming her hands on the counter. She barely got the lid open before she caught the scent of mint. "You got me some mint cho—"

"No. No, you don't even _say_ it or else I'm dumping them in the trash." Seth was smiling as he said it, though, and he didn't protest when Becky pushed him up against the counter and kissed him. "So put them in your cupboard so you can get to the good part of your surprise."

Since she was shorter, Becky had one of the lower cupboards for her particulars and she tucked her box of mint chocolates far back so no one else would be able to see them. "I'm not sharing those," she said flatly, going back to kiss Seth again before eyeing the second box. "Do I have to share these?"

"If you don't," Seth countered, "I might steal one or two. Otherwise, no." He reached across the island and pulled the box closer to her. "Go on." He leaned back and watched as she opened the larger box, which had a picture of her from her appearance on The Cutting Edge on the inner lid. "Happy MANniversary, as Twitter called it. Belated, I know," he grinned, "but I didn't want to bring them home because _someone_ 's been poking around all over the place. . . ."

Becky looked down at the large tray of chocolates, fingers dancing over their tops until she finally picked one. With only the slightest hesitation, she held it out to Seth. "I know it won't be mint if you were willing to have some."

Seth bit it delicately from between her fingers. "Thank you." After he finished chewing the chocolate, he gave her a proper hug. "What a year, huh? Congratulations, Becks. You've done so many amazing things. . . ."

Pulling down the zipper of his hoodie, Becky looked at his shirt. "I was expecting it to read _I'm amazing things_."

"I can't be serious for a minute, can I?" Becky snuggled closer and murmured an apology at that, and he didn't say anything for a minute or two. Going away for Super ShowDown earlier in the year had been hard enough; they had only been dating for about four months then, and Seth had foolishly thought it might get easier. Now that they were engaged, it felt even worse. It wasn't as if they hadn't been apart for days at a time before, but the fact that Becky _couldn't_ wrestle there made it even more frustrating. "We'll have a proper MANniversary celebration for you when I get back."

Becky's pout was somewhat diminished by a dusting of chocolate on her nose. "You're not leaving for days yet. . . ."

"But you have to train for UpUpDownDown, you said. So I could help you with that," Seth offered, slowly walking her backwards out of the kitchen, "or we could practice something else."

A grin slowly spread across Becky's face. "I'm sure I could get someone else to help me with the video games. . . ."

Seth raised an eyebrow and kissed the chocolate dust off her nose. "But not the other. . . . "

"Well, I _could_ ," Becky teased, wrapping her arms around her neck, "but I don't want to."

"Good."


	32. "Stupid Feelings"

"Poetic use of a forklift. I approve." Becky was waiting for him as soon as he left the staging area, so Seth had no chance to try hiding all his cuts and bumps. "We should petition to bring back the Slammys. You'd be a shoo-in for the _Best Use of Warehouse Equipment_ award for sure."

"Thanks." Seth was exhausted, but he still managed to keep his footing as he bent down to kiss her. "I caught that gesture to Kairi. You gunning for _Best Use of Sign Language in a Match_ , then?"

Instead of answering, Becky turned him around and examined his back. Her touch was gentle enough, but Seth couldn't help but flinch when she reached some of the more painful spots. "I noticed my new shirt on that table Rowan put you through. I'd thank you for the cheap plug," she added, turning him back around and hugging him gingerly, "but you could just wear it next time, you know."

"That would definitely be more comfortable," Seth agreed, resting his head against hers for a minute. "Because I gotta say it didn't make the landing any softer."

"I'll forward your complaint to the merchandise department," Becky quipped, gently sliding an arm around his waist and urging him forward. "C'mon. To Medical you go. If I had to, you have to. Them's the rules, remember?"

Seth was still catching his breath as he thought back to Becky's match. "Why did you—oh, right. Your arm. It was bleeding during your interview. . . ." He tried to twist around to look at it, but Becky kept it hooked around his waist.

"It's fine. I already went to Medical. You were busy with Crown Jewel stuff." Then she patted his side. "Longest match of the night. Congratulations."

"Can't be that much longer than yours was." They were almost at Medical, so Seth ducked his head and whispered, "Besides, I know you like to finish first."

It took Becky a moment to catch the quip, but when she did she almost shoved him. "There are a lot of things I could say to that," she replied, half her words cloaked in laughter, "but I'm trying to be a supportive girlfriend right now."

"Fiancee." It was an automatic correction for Seth now, even though he usually called her _wife_. Some interviewers had called him out on it, asking if they were already secretly married; he just loved the sound of it, the concept. "But I appreciate it. I'm sure it's fine—"

"Them's the rules," Becky repeated, shaking her head as she opened the door to Medical and held it for him. It was probably Seth's imagination, but the doctor seemed to pale a bit upon seeing Becky; maybe she had been a handful when she had her arm looked at. "Yeah, I still have the bandage on." Rolling her eyes, Becky turned her right arm to face the doctor, allowing Seth to see the gauze taped above her elbow.

"Good. Now we just have to make sure you're in fighting form for Thursday, Seth. . . ." While Becky lingered by the door, the doctor put Seth through his paces, checking the range of motion in his arms and shoulders before moving on to the abrasions. "No major complaints?"

Seth hesitated. An injury could take him off the Crown Jewel card, but he wasn't about to start playing sick just so he could spend more time with Becky. "Just sore in general. Nothing a little ice and rest won't fix."

"Hm." The doctor riffled through a kit of bandages, but came up empty-handed. "Some of your cuts are in awkward places. Most of these would pull off too easily. I'll go see what else we have in the big kit."

After the doctor left the room, Becky came up behind Seth and kissed the nape of his neck. "This doesn't mean you get to top by default, you know. I'm still pissed about my Halloween treats." Her plans to stay at his place and host an all-women's Halloween party while the men's roster was at Crown Jewel had fallen through: a few women were going to Saudi Arabia as well, in hopes that they would be allowed to compete; then there was a six-woman tag match scheduled for Friday Night SmackDown, and none of those women wanted the additional travel. She had an offer to participate in some fitness events in Dubai, though, so it wasn't as if Becky was going to be bored. Having her be so relatively close and yet not being together was going to be strange, though.

"You can have them when we get back," Seth promised, reaching back and grabbing one of her hands. The stretch hurt a bit, but he managed to pull her around to his side of the examination bed. "And they weren't specifically Halloween treats. Just . . . stuff so you'd know I was thinking of you." Then he chuckled. "Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot that you don’t care about my stupid feelings."

Cupping his face in her hands, Becky leaned in to kiss him. "Your feelings aren't stupid. And you get diplomatic immunity anyway."

Seth chuckled as he pulled her in closer, parting his legs a bit more so she could cuddle into him. " _Diplomatic immunity_. That's a new one. What's that a euphemism for?"

"You'll have to wait till I get my treats to find out." Sliding her hands around Seth's ribs, Becky traced soft lines down his back. "Since Xavier's hurt, what happens to UpUpDownDown? Does that mean I don't have to defend U2D2 for a year?"

"Damn, that's _cold_. Woods is out for a year," Seth teased, "and your first thought is about your title reign."

Becky pulled back a bit and squared her jaw. "Not my _first_ thought. I texted him and wished him a speedy recovery." Before too long, though, a sheepish grin made her lips twitch. "And then I realized I might get a year to practice. A YEAR." Seth never thought he would see Becky getting starry-eyed over video games, but she was damn close. "I won't be able to practice this week like I originally planned now because of Dubai, but if I have _a whole year_? I might even be able to beat Samoa Joe eventually!"

"Hey, hey. It's good to have goals, Becks, but let's be realistic. That man brings his console on the road with him," Seth pointed out. "You'll need more than a year of practice to beat him." He doubted Becky would stick with it for more than a few weeks, but it would be fun to watch anyway—especially since one of the surprises he had planted for her was custom controllers. A present for her, stress relief for him since he wouldn't worry about her destroying his stuff: it was a win-win.

Before Becky could counter, though, there was a knock at the door, and the doctor returned with a box of gauze, tape, and bandages. "Sorry about the wait," he said as he set the supplies down. Then he grabbed his tablet and scanned Seth's file. "No allergies to latex, right?"

Becky covered up her laugh with a cough as she stepped away from Seth and went back to the wall. Struggling to keep a straight face, Seth shook his head. "No, I'm good."

Oblivious, the doctor picked out a few bandages and gestured for Seth to turn around. After holding a few samples up to Seth's wounds, the doctor nodded to himself. "These ones should work fine," he said, handing Seth a small stack of wrapped bandages. "I can apply them after you've showered or give you an ointment and—"

"I can do it." Smiling, Becky stepped forward and took the stack of bandages in one hand, holding out the other expectantly. Seth bit back a chuckle as she waggled her fingers, waiting for the doctor. 

Seth eased to his feet to stand beside her. "And then I'll fix up her arm. Teamwork."

"That's us: the unofficial Mixed Match Champions." Becky took the tube the doctor finally held out. "Thanks." As soon as they were out of Medical, though, she rolled her eyes. "Honestly. He was acting like I was going to go squeeze it into Asuka's eyes or something."

Seth reached over and plucked the tube out of her grasp so she couldn't accidentally make it burst. "Well, after Finn's turn, people are probably fearing the Irish tempers right now."

Becky ran her thumb along the stack of bandages as if it were a wad of cash. "Going back to NXT," she mused. "It's a neat idea. I never did win the NXT Women's Title. I could go back and win that, then come back to Raw or SmackDown—"

"Raw," Seth interjected, wincing only slightly as he slung an arm around her shoulders. "Red suits you."

"Red hair, maybe." But Becky, as always, barely missed a beat. "Then I'd just need a partner and I could win the Women's Tag Team Titles. . . ."

Seth tugged on her ponytail. "You sure you're not a dragon? You want to hoard all the gold. . . ."

"I don't necessarily want all the belts at the same time. . ." Once they reached the men's locker room, Becky took the tube of ointment back and gently shoved Seth towards the door. "Go get cleaned up already."

Hand on the door, Seth hesitated. "Want some company in Dubai?" He almost laughed when Becky's eyebrows rose. "No, I'm not skipping out on Crown Jewel. But after it's done, I could fly over. The charters are going to be pretty full, so I'm sure no one will mind if one person's gone."

The soft smile that turned Becky's lips was one he loved: it usually accompanied a blush and a period of speechlessness, which meant he managed to both surprise and delight her. "You just don't want to fly back with a bunch of cranky guys."

Seth leaned against the doorframe and grinned. "There's that too. Mostly I just want to spend some time with my super-over fiancée." Becky rolled her eyes at the reference, but she also didn't dispute it. "I was looking up some things and there's a coffee museum we could visit."

"Coffee museum? How does that even work? Do they have the oldest coffee bean in the world or something?" Laughing, Becky came over and kissed him. "That would be awesome. But make sure it's not going to get you in any shit first, okay? I can always meet you at your signing on Sunday and we can have a day before RAW."

"I'll double-check with Vince," Seth said, kissing her forehead before opening the locker room door, "but it should be fine." Once he was inside and the door was closing behind him, he added, "Thanks for thinking of my stupid feelings!"

"Diplomatic immunity!" Becky hollered back.

"Diplomatic immunity?" a voice echoed, and Seth turned to see Aleister Black packing up his bag. "That's one I haven't heard."

Chuckling, Seth shook his head. "You and me both." As he headed to the showers, he thought about how to arrange getting to Dubai. He and Becky wouldn't have much time to spend there since he had a signing on Sunday, but any time he got to spend with her was a bonus, and it would make going over to Saudi Arabia more enjoyable, to say the least.

*

" _You are so evil._ "

"So the dress is okay, then? I know you didn't get a chance to see it back home. . . ." Sneaking the white dress into her luggage without Seth noticing had been a challenge, especially since he always liked it if she modeled her new outfits at home, but she had found a way to get it to Dubai without him noticing and, even more impressive, managed to shimmy into it and get it all fastened while he had been in the shower. "If you don't like it," she said innocently, picking up the shawl she had brought along to cover her shoulders in areas that had more stringent dress codes, "I can change into something else."

"Don't you dare," he breathed. " _Damn._ " After she kissed him, he made her turn slowly. "Fuck, you are going to make it hard to concentrate." The dress's straps met in a circle around her neck, then formed a square keyhole opening over her sternum before plunging just a bit in an arrow shape between her breasts. "Are you even allowed to wear this here?" Seth asked, trailing his fingers along the straps and the spaces between.

Becky's breath caught a bit as his hand moved down. "Where we're going, yes. I made sure to ask one of our guides. As long as I wear the shawl in the car and out on the sidewalks, I'll be fine." It probably didn't hurt that they had several factors in their favour: they were tourists—rich ones at that—and they were famous, plus they were engaged. She didn't know if she would chance such a dress if she were out on her own.

"I'd say you could have saved this for the wedding," Seth replied, unable to keep his gaze from dipping down, "but then I would never make it to the ceremony."

Winding her arms around Seth's neck, Becky went on tiptoe to kiss him; given how he often reacted to her in heels, she didn't think it was sporting to inflict both the dress and the matching shoes on him at the same time. "We _are_ dressed for it," she replied, letting her gaze flick down to admire him. "But we have reservations in place, so we should probably eat first. . . ."

" _You are so evil,_ " Seth repeated, watching her shrug into her shawl and adjust it to cover most of the top of her dress. "You're going to pay for it later. Wearing this when you know I can't even _say_ what I want to do to you—"

Becky grinned with mock innocence. "Isn't this so much better than being stuck at an airport with half the roster?" Between texts from friends, speculation on Twitter, and company notices, both of them had heard about the flight problems the Crown Jewel crew was having leaving Saudi Arabia, and Becky was glad that Seth decided to hop over to Dubai to visit her instead. They had spent longer periods of time apart, but at least she knew he was safe.

"Definitely." In the elevator, Seth started to curl his arm around her waist, but then two more people got on and he put a bit of distance between them to be polite. "Plus the company on the flight home will be far more enjoyable."

Becky raised an eyebrow but said nothing until the other riders got off a few floors down, leaving them alone again. "It's awfully convenient, having a fiancé. I should have gotten one sooner, I think."

Seth chuckled and kissed her head. "Are you angling to trade this one in already?"

"Never." As soon as the elevator doors opened and they exited on the hotel's main floor, Becky forced herself to keep the innuendo to a minimum. It was probably a good practice in general, but she was accustomed to teasing Seth almost everywhere they went and it was a hard habit to break. The driver the hotel had arranged for them was a friendly young man about to start university, and once he realized he had two WWE superstars in his cab, he almost veered off the road. Becky made sure that he got a few selfies with them when he dropped them off at the restaurant, and asked if they would be able to arrange to have him drive them back to the hotel as well. "I have nothing to sign for him," she said wistfully as they entered the restaurant, gesturing to her small, barely functional purse. "He was so sweet."

The evening continued in the same vein. While they were recognized a few times at the restaurant, everyone had been respectful of their privacy, asking if they would take selfies once they had finished their meals. Between fan requests Seth made sure to snap a few pictures of Becky for himself. "Come on. Can you blame me?" he said when she caught him changing his lock screen photo.

The comment reminded her of the cringe-worthy segment with Lana and Rusev, and Becky struggled not to laugh. "Come on yourself, then, and let's get back to the hotel."

Seth didn't need any more convincing than that, and while Becky put her shawl back on and said goodbye to the last group of fans they had taken pictures with, Seth had called for their cab. By the time they actually made it to the exit, the driver was there waiting. After she and Seth were seated in the car, the driver shyly passed back a small autograph book. "If you wouldn't mind," he said softly, "my younger brother is a big fan as well. His eleventh birthday is coming up soon, and it would mean the world to him. . . ."

"Of course. Our pleasure." Seth took the book from him and slid the pen out of the coil. "What's his name?"

The driver pronounced it slowly and then spelled it for good measure, and Seth took a whole page to write a birthday message to the young boy before passing the book to Becky, who did the same. "If you have your phone," she offered, "we could make him a happy birthday video. . . ."

"That would be amazing. Thank you so much." At a red light, the driver took out his phone and got the video app set up. "This is incredible. Thank you so much. I wasn't even supposed to be working tonight, and now look. . . ."

Becky made sure she had her shawl tucked in appropriately before leaning in close to Seth, and they wished the young boy a happy birthday in unison before each leaving him a short message. The driver's hand was shaking when he took his phone back, and his awe almost rubbed off on Becky. "Thank you," she said as they got out at the hotel. "You've been an excellent driver."

"Thank you. Thank you so much. . . ." Still grinning, the driver waved as they headed into the hotel, and he didn't pull away until they were out of sight.

"Wow. Great kid. I'll call the taxi company tomorrow and leave him a good review." Since the elevator was empty, Seth wrapped an arm around Becky's waist and pulled her close. "In the meantime, you better tell me how to get this dress off you," he added, dropping his voice so the security cameras hopefully wouldn't pick it up. "Because I don't want to ruin it."

"You better not." Becky still had the shawl on, but shivers were running up and down her arms as they got off the elevator and headed to their door. Teasing Seth was always fun, but she was almost as overwhelmed as their young driver had been; she hadn't expected such an enthusiastic response to what she considered a relatively tame dress. 

Seth opened the door in record time and drew Becky inside, pulling her to him so quickly her shoes slipped off. "How do I undo the straps?" he asked feverishly, tugging her towards the bed. Becky gamely slid off the shrug and tossed it to the side before he could accidentally rip it. "How did you even get in that on your own?"

"Practice. Take your jacket off," Becky retorted, sliding her hands around his waist, "and then I'll tell you."

Seth's jacket was in the air in seconds, landing not far from her shawl. Before she could even start to talk, though, he was kissing Becky again, easing down the long zipper at the back of the dress. Trailing his fingers down her bared back, he let out a sigh. "Please, Becky."

Becky shoved at his chest until he was sitting on the bed, gazing up at her with eyes so dark she could see her reflection in them. "I thought unwrapping was half the fun?"

"It is." Running his hands up her ribs now, Seth started kissing all the places between the straps, making her breath quicken. 

"We didn't even turn on a light," Becky pointed out, knees wobbling a bit. The thing she always forgot was that teasing Seth turned her on as well, which usually meant her plans of prolonged foreplay never came to fruition.

Seth pointed vaguely to the wall of windows, ceiling to floor, heavily tinted for client privacy. Much like New York City, though, Dubai shone at night, and their room was almost fully illuminated by the city lights around them. "The straps, Rebecca," he groaned, nuzzling the triangle gap that exposed the inner curves of her breasts. 

"Along the seam. Here." Reluctantly, Becky grabbed one of his hands, took it off her hip, and guided it to the spot in question. "There's some snaps. . . ."

To her temporary dismay, Seth brought his other hand up as well, unfastening the snaps with incredible dexterity. Once he had them loose, he pushed her back just a bit and grinned. "This is so much better than being on a chartered plane."

"Glad you think so." Fixing her gaze on his, Becky flipped the straps down and started shimmying out of the dress, pausing just once to tug the zipper down a bit more. Seth barely moved until the dress was at her feet, not even to breathe. When she was standing before him in just a pair of panties, though, he let out a low growl and pulled her down onto his lap. "You don't even have to be careful with these ones," she whispered in his ear, shuddering as he kissed her bare shoulder. 

"Good." Seth didn't tear the panties off, though. He didn't even slide his hands inside them. He was too focused on stroking her back, on kissing her throat and shoulders and making her gasp by using his teeth too as he worked his way down. "Fuck, I missed you."

They had only really been apart for a few days and Becky meant to say so, but her fingers were beginning to tingle in that fuzzy, familiar way and he hadn't even made it to her hips yet. "Who's teasing who now?"

"You earned this," Seth replied, his voice and his beard both rasping against her feverish skin. Sex at home was great too, but there was something about hotels that made him almost possessive. "That dress is dangerous." He ran his knuckles along her spine and chuckled as she gasped, head bowing over his. "Maybe I shouldn’t send you any of those pictures to post. . . ."

"And maybe," Becky retorted, inching herself away from his hips, "I should go put something on before I catch a chill. . . ." There was no way she would possibly be cold, not when she was so close to him. "Your shirt will do. . . ." While she kept his mouth busy with kisses, Becky undid all the buttons on his shirt with deliberate slowness, forcing herself to take her time. They had already arranged for a wake-up call from the front desk, so there was no danger of oversleeping and missing their flight. Nights away from the business were few and far between, and she wanted to savour this one.

" _So evil_." Their arms kept tangling together as Seth tried to shrug out of his opened shirt and Becky tried to slip it on. Seth resisted that at first, of course, but he also had a weakness for seeing her in his clothes, and the black cloth framed her figure just as enticingly as the white dress had. "What am I going to do with you?"

Becky gave him a hard, lingering kiss. "Everything? And soon, I hope. We do have a flight to catch in the morning. . . ."

"Just imagine what we could do with a private plane. . . ." Seth grabbed her thighs and lifted her as he stood, turning and putting her back on the bed. She had his zipper undone and his pants down to his thighs before he even moved his hands. "Let me guess: you've been practicing?"

"I have a very accommodating fiancé," Becky replied, lifting her hips when Seth reached for them. Since Seth hadn't kicked his shoes off yet, it took some doing to get him fully naked at last, and by the time his pants were on the floor, his shirt was down around Becky's elbows, so she squirmed out of it and threw it to the side. "Like I said, I would have got one sooner if I'd known how much fun they could be."

Seth parted her legs and started kissing his way up her right thigh. "Is that your way of saying I have six years to make up for?"

Becky sank back into the plush pillow when Seth started to use his tongue. She often wondered what would have happened if they started dating earlier. They had always gotten along and there had been a connection between them from the very start, but she didn't think she would have been ready for this level of feeling, this depth of want. The way he could make her feel just by giving her the right look was dizzying and daunting and she couldn't imagine anyone else igniting that in her anymore. "If it means more of this, then yes."

"Challenge accepted." The lights outside their window twinkled like low-slung stars, and they echoed the sparks dancing along Becky's skin wherever Seth touched her, the pulsing brightness behind her eyelids as her orgasm edged closer and closer. Her heart always did a little flip whenever they were able to steal away together, to carve out some time for themselves away from work and its obligations, but especially the moments like this, where they had worked _around_ work and made it work for them rather than the other way around.


	33. Tethered

Becky didn't think it was going to be a good day on RAW, so she was probably looking for things that proved her point, but in the end she wasn't wrong. Her tag match partnering with Charlotte against Asuka and Kairi Sane was mercifully changed—into a match against the Iconics. As she and Seth looked over their scripts, she muttered a few choice curses in Irish. "Why don't I get to do anything with the invasion? Are they worried I'm going to get injured again?" As Survivor Series neared, the debate about whether Nia Jax's punch launched her as 'The Man' was ramping up again, and all she could think about was the match she had missed against Ronda Rousey one on one. Would the past year have gone the same if that now-historic punch hadn't happened? It was impossible to say and she didn't regret leading the SmackDown invasion of RAW for a minute, but she wished she were more involved this year.

"You went and made yourself The Man," Seth replied, "and now they have too much invested in your beautiful face." His frown made it evident he wasn't pleased with his night ahead either. "Another non-finish? I hate this."

It couldn't have been along the lines of his spots with Brock, because Seth actually let her peek at his script. "Well, I guess that means Charlotte and I won't have to fight it out over the result." She leaned in to rub Seth's shoulders, digging in her thumbs. "You and Andrade always have great matches, though."

"When we're allowed to." Seth leaned back into her hands for a moment before sighing and straightening up. "You're up first, so you should probably go get ready. Have fun."

Becky leaned in and whispered something in his ear to make him smile. "Fun is for later. Have to get work out of the way first." On her way to the women's locker room, she spotted a familiar face and smiled. Even if he was going to be part of the SmackDown invasion, it was always nice to see Cesaro. "Hey! Did you miss us?"

"Always. With Sheamus out and us on separate brands, how else am I supposed to learn Irish?" Then he held up his phone. "You call the belt U2D2, right? I don't suppose you have it here?"

Becky shut her eyes and let out a snort of frustration. "You can't be serious! You come to me on this, the day of my forty-seventh forced interaction with Charlotte, and issue a challenge? That's low, Big Tony."

Cesaro chuckled. "While I appreciate the _Godfather_ reference, that changes nothing." Then he showed her a text thread he had going with Xavier Woods, organizing the match. "You're a fighting champion, Becky. I know you are."

"But . . . but . . . Becky Two Belts!" Xavier had asked to her to keep the belt handy in the coming weeks so she did have it in her bag, but Becky knew she didn't stand much chance against Cesaro. "And Samoa Joe was supposed to give me lessons and I barely had any because of his injury! I practiced a bit at Seth's but he's all _Stop mashing the buttons!_ and freaking out about his controllers."

"After I win," Cesaro declared smugly, "you can challenge me for a rematch any time you like. You have my word."

Becky continued reading down the text thread. Some of the back and forth was technical—how to set up the camera and the stream and so on—but then she saw the game and she groaned. "Mario Kart? Seriously? Driving games are the worst!"

"That's the challenge," Cesaro said with a shrug. "I'm on near the end and I think you're on first, right? Mic work and a match, probably a short promo?" When Becky nodded, he pocketed his phone. "Then I'll get stuff set up and we can have our match in between, unless you're busy."

Seth would probably want some time to talk, but the UpUpDownDown challenge shouldn't take too long if Cesaro was going to have everything ready to go by the time she got there. "Fine. But I want a coffee after. And a good one. All fancy. Foam art and everything."

Cesaro laughed and clapped her shoulder. "Fair enough. Text me when you're ready."

Becky knew she couldn't be the UpUpDownDown champion forever. Quite frankly, she was surprised she had ever managed to win against Seth to begin with. But it felt like another step down all the same. It would be impossible to maintain the incredible momentum and support she had gathered over the past year indefinitely, but she could hear the cheers getting shorter and less loud, feel the interest waning faster during her matches. As much as she tried to get the other women to put themselves out there, Management kept throwing her and Charlotte together, whether as partners or as adversaries; it helped no one, least of all them.

As she got dressed for the ring, Becky's thoughts once again strayed to Finn. His switch to NXT wasn't seen as a demotion or a downgrade. Watching him, he looked revitalized. Maybe that's what she needed. She missed the more organic feeling on SmackDown, and NXT had that in spades. _Maybe I should talk to Seth,_ she thought as she laced her boots. _And if he's on board, we could talk to Creative. He could do a heel turn; I could call out Ronda by going after her little ponies, settle some unfinished business and win the women's belt there. . . ._

It was hard not to go on auto-pilot with Charlotte when their interactions kept hitting so many of the same notes, but at least the Iconics were there to liven things up; Becky was getting fonder and fonder of Billie and Peyton as time went on. Then there was another Survivor Series invasion, but even so early in the show, it seemed to fall a bit flat. By the time she had changed back into street clothes and texted Cesaro to let him know she was ready to film the official challenge promo and have the UpUpDownDown match, she was wishing she had asked to have her coffee first.

Luckily, since Cesaro was a coffee aficionado, he already had some waiting, though neither had foam art. "You'll still get your good one later, Irish. This is just to get you through the match." He handed her a steaming cup and led her to where the challenge was filmed. It was a fun little piece, reminiscent of her challenge to Seth, and Xavier made a phone appearance to make it a certified challenge. 

Cesaro was even sporting during the match, giving her tips when she struggled and being a mostly gracious winner at the end. "Bloody racing games!" Becky groused, giving him a hug once the match was done. "I hate them so much."

"Oh, come now, Irish. You didn't do horribly. You just need more practice, that's all. And to watch where you're going," Cesaro added, draping his newly won title over his shoulder, "and to remember to use your arsenal, and—"

"And pretty much everything. I get it." Becky finished the last of her coffee and tossed the cup away. "Is it cool if we wait for my consolation coffee until Seth's done? He hasn't been himself this past week and he'd enjoy the visit, I think."

"Of course he's welcome." Cesaro and Becky walked side by side through the marked-off halls, taking routes where they knew they didn't have to worry about being caught on camera. "Nothing serious, I hope?"

Becky shook her head. "I don't think so. No one in his family is sick or anything. I just think he's getting sick of working his ass off and getting such backlash online. He always asks me how I deal with it and I never know what to say."

Even Cesaro's shrugs somehow exuded power. "The truth is normally a good place to start."

"You've been champion for five minutes," Becky replied, rolling her eyes, "and all of a sudden you think you have all the answers. I know that, you dope. And I've told him the truth. Most of it, anyway. I don't think some of my methods would work for him. They'd probably do more harm than good, and I don't want to add to his stress, you know?"

"How so? I can't picture you doing anything stupid, like getting ridiculously drunk." Cesaro's voice remained comfortably calm, and Becky could feel herself relaxing by the minute. With both Roman and Cesaro on SmackDown now, two of her favourite people were gone. 

"No, nothing like that." Becky focussed off in the distance. "It's more like . . . you know my new shirt, the 'I don't care about your stupid feelings' one? Like that. I got to the point where I wouldn't let myself care about the negativity anymore. I can see it and I can hear it, and it just . . . washes over me now. I know better than to respond."

Cesaro nodded, gently guiding her into a turn. He would have to be getting ready for his spots later that night, so they had to gradually make their way to the men's locker room. " _Don't feed the trolls_ , as they say. But why is that such a bad thing?"

Becky clasped her hands behind her back, twining her fingers together. "It's not, in theory. But the way I do it is more to . . . just block it out. And I don't think you can totally block out the negativity without doing the same to the other side. Balance, you know? The toxic stuff doesn't get to me as much anymore, but the pure excitement, the genuine love from fans . . . now it doesn't reach as far either. Some of the shine is fading away; I get that. It's inevitable. But I think I've sort of numbed myself to both extremes, and I'm not sure how to get the one back without having to deal with the other."

"I can see your point, I suppose." Cesaro didn't sound convinced, though. "But I don't think you've become some heartless machine either. I've seen you at signings, Irish; I've seen you with fans out in the arena and on the street. That love is still there. Maybe you're just receiving it differently, that's all."

"Maybe." Becky slowed as they approached a more heavily trafficked area. "But Seth processes emotions differently than I do. With him, everything's right out there, for better or worse. I don't think he could just . . . block stuff out. It's not his way."

"Then we'll just have to find a way that is." Cesaro pulled her into a one-armed hug. "He's done too much for this company and this business to let a few trolls ruin it." Then he laughed. "You taught him how to block people on Twitter, right?"

"Yeah, he knows." They chatted for a few more minutes before Cesaro had to get ready. "I'd wish you good luck," she added, "but since you're invading my show. . . ."

"What happened to _bollocks to brand supremacy_?" Cesaro shot her a sharp grin before he pushed on the men's locker room door. "Besides, everyone knows you still bleed blue. Come back to SmackDown. We can give Sasha back to RAW and everyone will be happy."

"Except Bayley." Becky waved and kept walking, though she didn't have a purpose or place in mind. It was true that she had just had one of the best years of her life, and she had done it by shaking things up: by moving out of Charlotte's shadow, by becoming The Man, by getting over her self-imposed ban on dating wrestlers and going out with Seth. She hadn't known what was going to come of any of those things, and they had all blossomed into something wonderful and dynamic. Maybe it was time to shake things up again.

*

Seth knew he put more thought, more symbolism, into his gear than most. Combining his current gear with some of his old NXT trunks was probably lost on most of the audience, but maybe it would make some of them think. He certainly was, anyway. Watching how Finn was doing after going back to NXT was making quite a few of the developmental alumni consider possibly making a return run.

It certainly beat thinking about the random invasion interference in his match. And from the Lucha House Party, of all people. Creative had to know that all the no-finishes he was getting weren't doing him any favours; now people would just complain that he hadn't technically beaten Andrade. Shame, too, because Andrade was a hell of a competitor and, as Becky had reassured him, they always had incredible matches. Distantly, he wondered if dating Charlotte was keeping Andrade from being pushed for fear that people would assume it was because of the Flair connection. It was a damn shame, because the guy was talented.

Seth felt like he was exuding _don't talk to me_ vibes pretty strongly, but it didn't stop Kevin Owens from waving him over. "Hey, Rollins." He waved his script in the air. "Looks like I'm about to get the _come back to NXT_ sell next. After having to fight Drew, of course, so I'm freakin' tenderized."

"I guess we’re an elite club." The other day, Seth had tried figuring out which of the active wrestlers currently on RAW or SmackDown _hadn't_ come up through NXT and he couldn't think of many. It made the whole invasion angle a bit ridiculous, at least the way it was currently being played. "You joining the beat-down club too?"

"Looks like it." Kevin rolled up his script and thumped it against his leg. "You ever think about it, though? Going back? Wild days back there, but lots of good times too. I don't know if the energy would ever be like that again."

Seth tried to keep his expression casual as he shrugged. "Finn seems to be enjoying it. I guess it's like having a whole new set of potential matches. Once you've done everything there is to do up here, I guess I can see the appeal."

Kevin raised his eyebrows. "So if the offer was legit, you'd go? I thought you were RAW red through and through."

"I don't know if I'd go that far." It was the safest thing to say publicly, anyway. "But it definitely has some things in its favour." Then Seth smiled. "Good luck out there."

"Thanks, man." Kevin saluted him with his rolled-up script before wandering away.

Seth knew he was slated to run out at the very end for the invasion angle, so he didn't bother getting dressed. It has habit to walk towards the locker room, though, and he ran into Becky on his way. "Hey. Nice punch," he said, bending his neck to give her a kiss.

"He deserved it. Getting in my way _and_ being in that garbage spot against Roman? He had it coming." Becky wrapped her arms around his waist. "You didn't have anything planned for after the show, right? Cesaro beat me for U2D2, so I told him he had to get me a fancy coffee. You're invited, of course."

"But Xavier's out." He kissed the top of Becky's head. As competitive as she was, she knew her UpUpDownDown reign was doomed to be short, but Seth was still surprised. "What game?"

Becky grimaced. "One of the Mario Karts. He was even coaching me _while_ kicking my ass, and I still lost." Then her lips quirked into a small smile. "I was a more gracious loser than you were, though."

"She's right, Rollins. She was." Decked out in his SmackDown blue, Cesaro came up behind Becky and patted her back. "I fully expect a rematch, though. And I'll be ready, Irish."

"You better be." Becky's eyes narrowed. "Because if I have my way, it won't be a racing game. Next time, you'll be the one kneeling."

Seth had tried to wipe his shocking UpUpDownDown loss from his memory, so the ritual of crowning a new champion was somewhat fuzzy. "Hold up. You made my wife kneel to you?"

Cesaro wisely took a step back and put his hands up. "When you put it that way. . . ."

"And he interrupted the obligatory session of saying of nice things," Becky chimed in. "Just yanked the belt out of my hands and laughed. . . ."

"I did let you finish, though." Cesaro stopped himself quickly when Becky burst out laughing. "Again, not what it sounds like."

Seth just rolled his eyes. "Go get ready for your invasion already. I want my coffee." After Cesaro left to meet up with the other SmackDown wrestlers to finalize their instructions, Seth pulled Becky off to the side for a lingering kiss. "Kevin's getting the NXT treatment today."

"I'd say I'm surprised Hunter didn't try it on me," Becky replied, "given that I never won the women's title there and all, but maybe they figure I wouldn't want to bring up my NXT run." Before Seth could counter, she added, "Don't you need to get ready for RAW's defence?"

"Yeah. But I have a few minutes. Perks of being the captain, I guess." He kept her close, letting himself relax bit by bit. For all that she could exasperate him, Becky could also help even out his moods faster than anything else. 

"Fun is for later." This time, she sounded more reluctant. "I hate to say it, but I'll be glad when Survivor Series season is over. Then we can get back to actual matches and not all this 'brand supremacy' bullshit. Although I'm not sure I should be cheering that. . . ."

Seth ran his fingers through her ponytail. "Why? What are they planning now?"

Becky shrugged. "Not a clue. I know I'm close to beating Ronda's record for holding the RAW title, so I wouldn't be surprised if she makes a return. And if I'm facing Asuka at TLC, I'll probably be booked to lose. . . ."

"Or they'll put you and Charlotte together against the Kabuki Warriors for the tenth time, and you can be Becky Two Belts again," Seth pointed out. She was getting better about not having the belts out while they were in hotels, so he really couldn't complain about the occasional boast.

"And make Charlotte a Grand Slam Champion before me." Becky shook her head. "I miss U2D2 already. Poor Red is going to be heartbroken. . . ." She turned puppy-dog eyes on Seth. "Losing her cousin so suddenly. It's a tragedy, really. . . ."

_I thought too soon,_ Seth told himself. "Then Red will need some time to grieve. Time alone. In your luggage. It's nice and cozy in there."

"I love you," Becky countered, "and I don't make _you_ sleep in the luggage. Granted, you do make it worth my while. . . ." She kissed Seth again and stepped back so they could start walking to the RAW muster point, where everyone was getting their instructions. "I hope I get a singles match, though. If I have to lose, Asuka's amazing and she'll be a great champion." The silence that followed was heavy with words she wouldn't let herself say.

"And?" Seth prompted, giving her a gentle nudge. "Irish, you're one of the most competitive people I know. You're not just going to accept losing the belt so gracefully."

Becky's gaze skittered away as she hooked his fingers with hers. "I'm not saying I'll be happy about it, but . . . when you met me in Dubai after losing the title to The Fiend, you looked absolutely _done_ , but in a good way. Relieved. Relaxed."

That took Seth a bit by surprise. He had definitely enjoyed being able to spend time with her, doubly so when all the others had such travel trouble getting out of Saudi Arabia; he just hadn't realized it was that obvious. "Well, the matches were getting repetitive and I thought it would free me up for new feuds. . . ."

"And the online backlash was getting to you." Becky kept her voice soft, as if testing the waters. "Some space can be a good thing. I've had an amazing year and I'm glad and grateful for it, but I don't want to turn into a Ronda Rousey that has a stranglehold on the division and does nothing. I want all the women—RAW, SmackDown, NXT—to get better, and maybe I've done all I can from the top. Maybe I need to come at it from a different angle now. Part of me misses being the hunter instead of the hunted. Then I have more control."

Seth paused just off to the side of the meeting room door. "And we all know how much you love that." He had meant for the kiss to be quick, but it stretched out into something warm and languid until Samoa Joe gave him a solid thump on the back. "Yeah, yeah," Seth muttered as he set Becky down on her feet. "Catch up with you later. Hopefully this won't take long."

The invasion and RAW's response was as convoluted as Seth figured, a seething mass of bodies that quickly became difficult to tell apart. Some wrestlers were conveniently wearing RAW red or SmackDown blue, but others were shirtless or in their casual clothes. He was sure he had probably hit some RAW guys at some point, but there were so many people it was hard to tell. _This isn't going to work well on camera_ , he thought. For the first time in a long time, he didn't really care if he missed the RAW recap, and not just because he would much rather be doing other things with Becky.

At least there was the promise of coffee and good friends. It felt weird, not having Cesaro on RAW any longer, but as promised he found an excellent café and ordered gourmet coffee for all three of them, along with pastries that looked delicious. Seth would have to assume they were, because Becky ended up stealing most of them. "I'm eating my feelings," she declared around a mouthful of a cookie so fresh it was falling apart in her hands. "My daughter is going to be crushed now, you know."

Cesaro shot Seth a questioning look. "She means the RAW Women's belt," Seth explained quickly. "She has an odd relationship with her titles."

"Okay. Just wanted to make sure I hadn't missed anything. You _do_ call her your wife an awful lot for someone who claims not to be married yet, you know," Cesaro pointed out.

Seth leaned back in his chair and basked in his coffee for a moment. His younger self would have laughed at the idea of spending so much time and money—well, Cesaro's money, this round—on coffee, but for him it was as much about the time spent with friends as the caffeine. "I'm practicing so I don't get it wrong when it counts," Seth replied with a smile, watching Becky out of the corner of his eyes. It was yet another thing he had been criticized about, but he knew it made Becky smile so he tried to sneak it in every once in a while.

"I don't reciprocate often," Becky added for good measure, "because he damn near passes out if I call him my husband." She and Cesaro both burst out laughing so hard other people in the café turned to see what was so funny, but Seth didn't care. Becky was the one who had truly made him want to be a husband—and more than that, a father—and he wasn't ashamed to admit it.

"I'm sure you make up for it in ways I don't need to know about." Cesaro mimed clamping his hands over his ears for a moment before picking up his coffee again. "I just hope I'm invited to the actual wedding or party or whatever you decide to do, because then I can tell all sorts of horrible stories about Seth."

Becky sat up straighter in her chair. "You can tell me now! No need to wait!"

Cesaro glanced over at Seth and grinned. "Well, since you did kneel, I suppose it's only fair. Back when Seth and I first started riding together," he began, stretching out his legs as if he was going to be there a while, "our planned rental wasn't available so they gave us a substitute. All white interior. So you think you can guess where this is going, right? But wait. . . ."


	34. Follow the Leader

There was no way Survivor Series wouldn't be a mess. Some of the invasions had been so packed with people that it was hard to tell who you were supposed to be fighting. NXT was almost always getting the upper hand and Seth could understand why: with the formerly developmental brand moving not only to network television, but scheduled at the same time as a fierce competitor, the brass wanted the show to shine. It didn't mean it wasn't frustrating for everyone else, though.

"We had our invasion days too," Becky remarked as they arrived at the arena. "When you and The Shield first debuted, you were unbeatable. When Charlotte and I were brought up, we were meant to be centerpieces of the women's evolution." She said the last with a hint of wistfulness, making Seth glance over. Ever since losing U2D2 to Cesaro, she had been more introspective, though not entirely quiet; he wasn't sure if that was even possible for Becky. "Now we're on the other side of the table."

"I suppose," Seth allowed, parking closer in than usual. Normally he didn't mind the extra walk, since it gave him time to talk with Becky or catch up with other wrestlers, but he had a feeling he was going to want a quick exit after what was going to be a long night. "It doesn't mean they have to blow us out of the water, though."

After leaning across the console to kiss him, Becky hopped out of the SUV and headed for the back. "I'm pretty sure The Shield was running roughshod for a few months before you three showed any real weakness." Before Seth could reach for any bags, she hugged him tightly. "At least you have absolutely nothing to do with The Fiend tonight. That's a bonus, right?"

Seth rolled his eyes. "Except Daniel will actually get to have a good match with him. They've built it up; they have history. So I'm going to get slammed from two angles: losing the Survivor Series match and having Daniel Bryan do my job better than I did." He still leaned into the embrace, though; Becky could almost always help him calm down just by being there. Resting his chin on her head, he rocked their joined bodies back and forth for a moment, like awkward teenagers at a school dance.

"This is starting to sound a lot like Dolph's _It should have been me_ phase," Becky replied as she stepped back. "Do I smell a heel turn happening?"

He didn't use his evil cackle laugh, but it was tempting. "Maybe. We'll see." Sometimes Creative didn't like the wrestlers to reveal their upcoming arcs even to spouses and partners so the effect was even more genuine, but Seth wasn't entirely sure about what they were planning, let alone if he would be allowed to tell Becky. For as long as they had been dating, neither of them had gone through a major shift that require complete secrecy, so he wasn't sure how they would handle it when it inevitably happened. Aside from some acts like The New Day, Creative seemed to like switching up allegiances and alignments, sometimes at random.

Now it was Becky's turn for an eye roll. "Great. Now my Twitter's going to be full of _Becky, come collect your boy before he gets himself in trouble_. Well, at least I have some warning, I guess. . . ." She gave him a peck on the cheek as she gathered her bags. "So does that mean this is our last matchy-matchy night?"

Since their relationship angle on television hadn't gone over as well as the bosses had hoped, he and Becky had often tried to match elements of their gear so they could be in the ring together at least in spirit. His Survivor Series gear was all red, honouring the Chicago Bulls, but Becky had stuck with her tried-and-true black, adding red accents instead. "I'm pretty sure Maryse would slap us both if we tried to do matching heel gear," Seth laughed. After he got his bags and shut the door, he kissed the top of Becky's head. "How do you do it? How do you not let all the negativity get to you? I know I keep asking you—"

Becky's answering smile was tinged with regret. "And I keep trying to think of an answer that would work for you, and I don't think there is one. What I think, what I do . . . I don't think it's a solution for you. I think it would do more harm than good, and I don't want that. No one does." Her hands were full, so she bumped his arm with her shoulder. "I don't know if it would help you to see Seth Rollins as a character, something you can step away from after work. I mean, you know I'm not like 'The Man' outside of the ring—"

"Oh, really? Let's ask Cesaro or Joshy or . . . oh, maybe _me_ " Seth teased, stepping to the side before she could kick him or his bags.

"Well, maybe in certain contexts," Becky allowed, striding ahead of him. "But you know what I mean. There's a lot of Rebecca Quin in Becky Lynch, but that doesn't mean they're the same. There has to be some separation. . . ."

"Is this your very subtle way of telling me I take things too personally?" Seth raised an eyebrow before saying a quick greeting to some lighting technicians who were walking past them.

"You're a Gemini, right?" Becky stuck out her tongue. "There you go. The twins. Dual personalities and all that."

There was no good answer. At his core, Seth knew that, but that didn't make it sting any less. Back in NXT, Dusty had told them to amplify themselves, that the audience would connect with honesty more than style. But the most brutal truth was that he had always wanted to wrestle, and to have people constantly saying that he wasn't as good as he knew himself to be or that he was dragging the show down ate at him. He didn't want his frustration to consume Becky as well, though, not when she was having one of the best years of any WWE wrestler, male or female. "Like Bray and The Fiend?" he tried to joke. "So you're saying I should be Seth and The Architect, and The Architect can be the one who gives no fucks?"

Becky shrugged lightly. "And you'd be able to incorporate Daddy Hunter's sledgehammer. Could be fun."

"I wasn't serious!" Seth pulled her off to the side and kissed her. Normally they would drop off their things in their respective locker rooms and then go to Creative together, but he wanted to get the scripts first. There were rumours—admittedly quiet, scattered ones—that Ronda Rousey was going to be making an appearance that night, if not a full-fledged return, and he wanted to see if it was true. Becky had almost broken Ronda's record for longest reigning RAW Women's Champion, and while that wasn't likely to be thwarted, it could mean that Creative would say she had fulfilled her purpose and have her drop the belt to someone else in the coming weeks. It was bad enough that Lesnar was probably going to hold the championship hostage again until Royal Rumble at the earliest; if Ronda dethroned Becky, then both major titles could be in the hands of mostly absent champions.

Becky gave him a mock pout before grabbing her bags again. "Too bad. You're kind of hot with the sledgehammer. Imagine Loki holding Mjolnir, as Woods would say. It works."

Creative's office was buzzing when they arrived, so when they weren't given any special verbal instructions, Seth and Becky took their scripts and found a quiet corridor to read them over. "So RAW doesn't win anything after the pre-show?" Seth said, nearly spitting in disgust. The days of RAW reflexively calling itself the A-Show might have been long gone, but he knew the locker rooms were filled with talented wrestlers who deserved better. "You're the main event, though. That's something."

"And I get to beat up Shayna after the match," Becky replied, "so maybe that's our moral victory. Or my next heel turn. Because the last one worked so well."

"No mention of Ronda, though. That's a good sign, right?" Seth ruffled her hair. "No CM Punk either, which is . . . I don't know. I figured being in Chicago might sway him, but I guess not."

Becky kept flipping through her script, looking for any hidden cameos she might have missed. "You just want a Mixed Match Challenge match against him and AJ Lee, admit it."

Seth shook his head. "Nope. Against Miz and Maryse. Battle of the ponytails."

"And egomaniacs," Becky retorted with a grin as she stood. "Another long pay-per-view. By the time the main event rolls around, everyone's going to be worn out and then say the match sucked." She patted his cheek and smiled, but Seth could see the frustration in her eyes; she wasn't immune to all the frustration that dogged him, but she could usually deal with it better. "At least they can't blame you for that."

"I'm sure Twitter will find a way." Seth lurched to his feet and grabbed his things. Becky's match was last and the traditional men's team match was third to last, so they still had plenty of time to kill before they needed to be ready, but sometimes he found having his gear on helped him get in the mindset. _Maybe Becky's right,_ he thought as they walked to the locker rooms. It wasn't extreme as a separate personality, perhaps, but when he was in his gear or under the bright lights, some parts of Colby Lopez gave way to let Seth Rollins shine more. He was just glad Becky hadn't noticed that his script was a little bit longer than hers, holding hints for RAW the next night.

There were some solid matches and good performances during the night. Seth couldn't deny that. Even the pre-show delivered more than it usually did. _Maybe NXT is the kick in the ass we all needed_ , he thought as he watched from backstage. Becky was catching up with Bayley and Sasha, so he was sitting with Roman instead.

Roman seemed to be thinking along the same lines. "I always thought the brand splits hurt more than they help. The mid-card never really benefits, and the feuds go on too long. Something like this," he said, pointing at the screen, "shakes things up a bit." Then he gave Seth a friendly punch to the shoulder. "Sorry Team Red's coming out on the bottom tonight, bro." There was absolutely no sarcasm or malice in his tone: Roman knew how loyal Seth was to RAW. "I thought they would split it a bit more evenly, but I guess they want USA to see that they made a good investment when they decided to air NXT."

"Yeah." Seth was still looking forward more to the end of his match than the match itself, which was never a good sign. 

Something must have shown in his face, because Roman slung an arm around his shoulders, heavy enough to almost knock him off balance. "I get it, bro. It's okay. Burnout happens to all of us, even you. You've had a big, busy year, man: beating Brock twice, getting engaged to Becky, magazine covers, all that. It doesn't mean you love this any less. It just means you might need some space. That's not a bad thing. Look at all the people who took a break and were even better when they came back."

"I guess." As their team match approached, Seth forced himself to focus. If he didn't believe in RAW and his team, why should they even bother? Scripted or not, he always gave it his all and he wasn't about to stop tonight. He made himself concentrate on the highlights, the incredible skills on display, even after he was eliminated. It was a nice victory for Roman, especially with the respectful moment he shared with Keith Lee, and Seth hoped it set up his Shield brother for great things on SmackDown.

Becky's match against Shayna Baszler and Bayley held his attention more, maybe because he hadn't seen Becky square off against someone like Shayna before. Even though Becky's frustration was palpable, she translated it into her moves and made it part of the match, not a reaction to it. _She's so good at this,_ he thought appreciatively. He knew countless online wrestling pundits said Becky was a slow, clumsy wrestler compared to the likes of Charlotte and Sasha, but he had always thought her biggest strength was her understanding of psychology, both of her fellow wrestlers and of the fans. If WWE would give her free rein, Becky could be running the place within a month.

Her attack on Shayna after the match was cathartic, but her parting line made him laugh: _This is my house!_ When he met her just beyond the gorilla position, he swept her up in a hug. "Did you clear that with Paige," he asked, "or is she going to be coming for you now too?"

Flushed and sweaty, Becky just grinned. "Let her. I think we should get back to the hotel." It wasn't that long of a drive back to his place, but since RAW was also in Chicago, it was easier for them to stay the night. "We can have an inter-gender clothing elimination match."

The innuendo made Seth chuckle. "Pre-determined or unscripted?"

"Unscripted," Becky answered, "but you know I'm going to win."

"You usually do."

*

As Monday wore on, Becky was certain something was up. She beat Seth's time in several parts of their workout and he barely even complained. When she had suggested buying some mint chocolate chip ice cream, it took him a few moments before he balked. She even got almost all the way to the SUV with the keys before he realized they weren't in his hand. "What's up with you?" she asked when they were back at the hotel. "Sure, Team Red fell flat last night, but it's not like we didn't try. . . ."

Seth shook his head. "It's not that. It's . . . they gave me a sneak peek of tonight's show." He flopped back on the bed and stretched out an arm, his motion for her to join him.

Becky peeled off her socks before curling up beside him. "Not another Lesnar beating. I will go beat the shit out of Vince for real, I swear. . . ."

"No, nothing with Lesnar." Now that she had brought up the possibility, though, it seemed to add to the tension in his shoulders. "They want a Town Hall meeting at the top of the show. . . ."

"For fuck's sake." Becky fought the urge to bury her face against Seth's chest. Creative's decisions were making less and less sense as the year went on. "When have those ever done anything? They make people change the channel, that's all. . . ."

Seth stroked her hair idly, mindful of the extensions. "Well, they've given me a bit of leeway in terms of the speech. The tone has to be accusatory— _You sucked_ , and all that—but I can guide it a bit, and . . . I was thinking about Dusty kept telling us to amplify everything in NXT."

Becky nodded slowly. NXT had been a touchy subject with Seth lately, first because of Finn's move and then because of Becky's not-quite joke about jumping over to get the NXT Women's Title that had eluded her; the invasions had been the last straw. "So what are you thinking?" Her brain began stockpiling ideas to offer, but she wanted to hear what Seth had to say first.

"Well, I keep getting mocked on Twitter for the 'locker room leader' mentality and being loyal to WWE and RAW, so I was thinking I could just maximize that." Seth's hand went still in her hair. "Be willing to do anything to help RAW succeed and all that."

"Art imitating life," Becky agreed with a nod. "It works, and it draws on a lot of the stuff you've been saying on Twitter." Then she kissed his neck. "Does that mean we get to see the return of the heel-black suit?" She might tease him over his reactions to her wearing certain outfits, but she knew she could be just as bad.

Seth laughed, the sound rumbling through her skull. "It's short notice, so I'll have to improvise, but yeah, pretty much. They said I could pick out some muscle too, as long as it wasn't anyone currently involved in a story." Then his laughter ebbed away. "Hunter suggested that you not be at the meeting, though."

Becky rose up a bit at that. Ever since the Corbin–Evans debacle, there hadn't been any major talk of joined storylines for them, and they were both quite fine with that. "Why? Are they going to position me as your ally or an adversary?"

"The snippet I saw didn't say anything about you, actually." Seth eased out from under her to fetch some crumpled script pages from his bag. She hadn't even noticed them last night. "I think it's more that they don't want any backlash to fall on you. If I call out the whole locker room and you're there, then I either have to praise you and bash the others, which does you no favours, or I have to lump you in with everyone else, and that doesn't really fly either, because if I did that, you would sure as hell react."

"Damn right." Becky took the papers from him, wrinkled from multiple readings. "Kinda weird that the Viking Raiders wouldn't pipe up, isn't it? Given that they had RAW's only victory last night." Then she noticed some of the handwritten notes on the side. Most of them were in Seth's writing, the equivalent of him thinking out loud, but some looked like Heyman's. "He's suggesting Authors of Pain?"

Sitting against the headboard, Seth nodded and beckoned to her again, so she moved up the bed and leaned back against his chest. "Yeah. They're separated cleanly from Drake now because of the draft and they're ready for a push. Plus it might help the tag division too."

"And there's the Finn angle," Becky added, glancing up at him. "Didn't you read that interview he did a few weeks ago? He said that if he was going to build another faction, he would want AOP in it. So you either have to snap them up fast, or you could do something across the brands, which is a story in its own right." Trying to fit plots together, even just for fun in her head, was exhilarating. There were plenty of retired wrestlers who still worked within WWE as trainers, commentators, scouts; more and more, she was thinking she would like to be on the creative side of things, helping develop characters and storylines. She knew why Seth wasn't fond of The Fiend, but watching Bray Wyatt's work with that story was like a master class.

"I never thought of that," Seth admitted. "Lots of ways that could go, right? They could be torn between RAW and NXT, or a bridge between them. We could even see if we could get someone from SmackDown to make it a triad. Cesaro? They never give him good storylines."

Moment by moment, Becky watched Seth brightening up, becoming more and more engaged with the ideas. After he had been so unsure for so long, it was beautiful to see. "I could totally see him in a hitman-style position. He's well dressed anyway, and he had that whole James Bond thing going on for a while. . . ." She didn't want to take over his project, but brainstorming was contagiously fun. "So does that mean I'm off the whole card tonight?" Her brain finally worked its way back to her absence from the Town Hall meeting. "Or are they going to bury my match somewhere in the middle and hope people don't start chanting your name?"

Seth shook the papers before setting them down on the bed. "That's all I know, and they only gave me that so I could do some brainstorming before tonight. I'm supposed to go to Creative early to get things ironed out so they know who to set up as potential allies. As much as I would love to work with Drew," he added, "he should be getting title matches instead."

"Could be a way to bring in someone from NXT who's not happy with their current status too. You have lots of options." Becky turned around to kiss him. "I guess I'll just have to enjoy it from the back, even if I'll just be hearing Xavier in my head, saying _Becky, you need to come and collect your boy!_ "

Seth nuzzled her neck as he pulled her back against him. "You can punish me later."

Becky's eyes fluttered shut as she tried to calculate how much time they had before they needed to head to the arena. _Not nearly enough_ , she thought, because that was almost always the answer. "If you're wearing the heel-black suit," she teased, "shouldn't that be the other way around?"

"Mmm. Don't tempt me. I need to think." It didn't stop him from turning her around and kissing her, though, at least not until an alarm on his phone went off. "Fuck. I'm supposed to call Heyman. Hold on." He deposited Becky gently, more or less, on the bed and grabbed his phone from the side table.

She wasn't sure what he and Paul had discussed, because Seth wouldn't say much for the rest of the afternoon, right up until they were ready to go to the arena. "If you don't tell me _something_ ," she threatened at last, "I'm going to . . . crash your meeting and tell you I'm pregnant with Cesaro's baby or something. I'll ask Lana for pointers. She's used to absurd plots by now."

"Any kid you and Cesaro created would be a linguistic terror," Seth remarked, getting his travel bag ready. After RAW, they could head directly back to his place and enjoy a day or two of relative peace until they had to deal with house shows again. He kept steering conversation away from his script ideas on the way to the arena, and when he saw Paul Heyman waiting for him in the parking lot, the first thing he said was "I haven't told her."

Becky held up her hands in surrender before she grabbed her gear bag. She doubted she was going to have a match, if what Seth said was accurate, but she wanted to be prepared. Leaving Seth and Heyman to their clandestine discussions, she headed to Creative where her suspicions were confirmed. "Nothing for you tonight," the assistant said apologetically.

Was it because of Seth's potential heel turn, she wondered, or last night's main event which hadn't gone over as well as was hoped? Realistically, Becky knew it was probably a mixture of both, but since she would surpass Ronda's title reign on Tuesday, it felt like a slap in the face. _Maybe I'll get a promo on Monday,_ she thought, settling in at the viewing area.

Given that most of the RAW roster was supposed to be surrounding the ring for Seth's Town Hall meeting, it wasn't surprising that the viewing area was almost empty. A few referees sat in a cluster, drinking coffee and chatting, and some of the make-up and wardrobe crew passed by to say hi, but for the most part Becky was left alone to listen to Seth's finely crafted diatribe. She had to give him and Heyman credit: with the way it was worded, they could go several ways with it. Was Seth just guilty of caring too much, or had the pressure gone to his head? Becky guessed Creative would decide how to proceed largely based on fan reaction.

When Randy Orton was the first to walk out, Becky had to laugh at his response. "Pity they'll edit that out," she said as he walked past the viewing area.

Randy just smirked. "I bet you someone already has it on Twitter by now."

Less than a minute later, Seth targeted Charlotte, who strode out as well. When she got to the back and noticed Becky, she came over. "Did you already get chastised, or does that ring make you exempt?" she teased.

Becky glanced down at her engagement ring. As much as it sucked to not be involved with the show, it was rather nice to be able to wear her ring almost all day uninterrupted. "Apparently, the powers that be want me insulated from his rant for whatever reason. I guess they're waiting to see what the fallout is."

"Well, your boy better watch himself," Charlotte replied with an imperious wink. "And you're going to be so slammed with _Where was Becky?_ tweets. Poor Becks." She leaned down to kiss Becky's cheek before heading back to the main aisle. "I get the green mist from Asuka again tonight," she said, tugging at her hair. "I still haven't got all of the last batch out."

"Dress up as She-Hulk," Becky suggested. "No one will notice then." She continued to watch Seth's subtle spiral into a martyr-like madness, wondering how it was all going to play out. There would be backlash for sure, but even on a television screen, she could see a rekindled spark in his eyes. That was worth a million salty tweets from fickle fans.


	35. On Mondays We Wear Leather

Becky didn't think there would be many things she could dislike as much or more than Brock Lesnar, but she had just discovered another one to add to the list: getting the same protected treatment as Brock Lesnar. No one would come out and say it to her face, but it was basically an open secret that Vince didn't want the championships—particularly his biggest drawing talent—featured on television every week. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder my arse," Becky muttered as she waited for Charlotte to arrive so they could film the first of their three spots. Apparently Creative had finally decided to build up some matches for the upcoming TLC event, so it was shaping up to be an eventful RAW—at least if people could sit through the tedious 'divorce court' segment at the beginning.

She had been scribbling in her travel journal just to pass the time, since the women's locker room had been cleared out in advance for filming, but now Becky found herself writing random lists. Things she wanted to do, places she wanted to go, gift ideas for family: there was no rhyme or reason to the lists, so she hoped they would make sense later. Trying to figure out what to get Seth for Christmas was going to be a challenge: since it was going to be their first holiday season together, it felt like there was extra pressure to get everything just right. Under his name she had a big question mark. _Maybe Charlotte will have some advice_ , she thought, tapping her pen against her thigh.

"Glad to see you got the memo about _Wear Your Leather Jacket to Work Day_." Laughing, Charlotte stepped further into the room, but waved back a waiting cameraman. Then she gestured down at Becky's lap. "You still keep a journal?" She looked a bit wistful as she added, "I don't recognize that one. But I guess you probably filled up the last one I got you."

Becky's posture softened as she glanced down too. She had almost forgot that this was the first journal she'd had to buy herself for a while; whether it was for a birthday or Christmas, Charlotte always seemed to have a new one in her gift bag. "It's been a busy year," she replied, standing so she could hug her best friend. "It's getting full, though. I might need a new one by Christmas."

Charlotte smiled and kissed her cheek. "I'll take that hint. There's a beautiful shop Andrade showed me. They make notebooks by hand. Maybe I'll get you a custom-made one."

"Then I'll be too afraid to use it!" Becky laughed, stepping back. "Speaking of Christmas, though, I need to pick your brain after." Then she pointed at the camera crew patiently waiting in the corridor. "Let's get this filmed first, though, and we can talk later."

"Yeah. In Medical, according to the scripts." Rolling her eyes, Charlotte retreated to the hallway.

As the cameras got ready, Becky settled back in her spot. _Do fans really never question why there just happen to be cameras in the locker rooms?_ she wondered. She probably hadn't when she was a kid. She opened her journal again but turned it to a blank page; with her luck, someone would have done a screen capture if it were on a real page, then zoomed in and posted it online. She wrote a randomly related sentence about Asuka and Kairi just in case, feigning exasperation when Charlotte came in with her offer of a tag-team match against the Kabuki Warriors. After the promo was done and the tech crew had left to get the footage edited, Becky leaned back. "One done," she declared as Charlotte sat beside her. "Two to go."

Charlotte slung an arm around her shoulders. "I missed this. Every time I watch SmackDown and see Sasha and Bayley being all buddy-buddy, I get jealous." With a sigh, she kissed Becky's cheek and stood up. "Have fun getting your ass kicked."

Becky chuckled. "Asuka and Kairi always make it fun." And for the most part, she wasn't wrong. She wasn't a fan of lopsided handicapped matches, mostly because they never really made anyone look good: if the lone wrestler could beat two—particular in a case like this, against the tag-team champions—it made the team look weak, while a victory over the lone wrestler couldn't help but be anticlimactic. Asuka and Kairi's skill sets made it interesting, though. The spot with the table didn't go as planned, but they salvaged it as much as they could. It set up a future feud with Asuka nicely too, which was Becky's main goal. While she appreciated that the women's tag division needed to be built up, both of the single titles in the division were languishing.

"Fancy meeting you here," Charlotte teased after their first spot in the medical office was finished. Since they were filming a double episode that night to cover the holidays, it could be hard to keep track of what was 'live' and what would be used next week.

Becky reached over and handed her the ice bag she had just rejected on screen. "Want to get a head start? You'll be needing it soon."

"Sweet of you," Charlotte replied, "but I'll make them get me a new one. Nothing but the freshest ice for the Queen, you know." Her smirk softened somewhat as she added, "I'm glad we're getting to work together again. I know you'd rather be focussing on the title and I get that, but I've missed you. Maybe next year, we can have a tag team title run for real."

"Only if I get to make puns about 20-20 vision." Becky gave her a quick hug. "Go get your ass kicked already, would you? This bed isn't very comfortable to sit on."

"Thanks for the warning." Charlotte winked at her and left the room. Her ambush spot wasn't far from the medical office, so Becky could hear everything, and the camera crew wasn't far away. A few minutes later, Charlotte was back and the camera crew was setting up for angles. Before they knew it, the promo was done and the techs were filing out of the small room, leaving the two friends alone. "Done in one," Charlotte remarked. "You'd think we have chemistry together or something." Then she grinned wickedly. "Speaking of chemistry, is Seth trying to copy Finn now or something? Or did he just read the memo?"

Becky just shrugged. She knew something was happening with Seth's arc, but he wasn't sharing many details with her; he wanted it to be as much of a surprise as possible. "What do you mean?"

Charlotte's grin only grew. "Nothing, nothing. Maybe it's a matchy-matchy couples thing. . . . "

Becky rolled her eyes. "Please. You post pictures of you and Andrade in bed together. You two have matching _outfits_ for photo shoots. Seth and I have nothing on that."

Hopping down off the bed, Charlotte laughed. "Not that you share, anyway. We don't have the same spotlight you two do, so we can get away with it. I'd say _Have a good night_ ," she added with a wink, "but I think that's going to be a guarantee."

Becky waited a few moments before leaving just in case there were any stray camera crews shooting in the hallway. Rather than head directly to the women's locker room, though, she detoured to the men's, intending to just pass by. Then she caught a glimpse of Seth in his heelish all-black, shrugging into a leather jacket. _Definitely glad he got the memo,_ she thought, heart fluttering a bit as she approached. 

He turned before she could collect herself and when he noticed how flustered she was, Seth smirked. "Hey." He sauntered over and slid a hand around her waist. There was only the smallest of gaps between her top and her shorts, but naturally his fingers found it, sneaking beneath to touch skin. She automatically tilted her face up for a kiss, but he nuzzled her neck instead. "Don't wear the leather pants back to the hotel," he murmured, making her shiver as his hand moved further up her back. "It takes too long to get them off."

A shiver rolled down Becky's spine before she felt uncomfortably warm. Seth had always been gorgeous as a heel, but he'd never been in full heel mode since they'd gotten together. She'd had hints of his darker side—and quite happily reaped the benefits, at least in the bedroom—but now she might get the full show. "Um, I should have leggings. . . ?"

Seth's wolfish grin only grew. "That'll do." He finally kissed her then, hard enough to make her breath catch and long enough to make her legs wobble. "Go get dressed. I'll be done soon." When he pulled his hand away, Becky almost stumbled, and she had to lean up against the wall to steady herself as she watched Seth adjust his jacket on his way to the gorilla position.

Once Seth was out of sight, Becky hurried to the women's locker room. Her attempt at a heel turn last year might not have worked out, but if that kiss was any sort of harbinger, she certainly hoped Seth's did.

*

Some people were natural heels, at least in terms of wrestling; others were born faces. A select few could play both roles well, but they were rare. Outside of the ring, Seth couldn't be less of a heel, but inside the squared circle his dark side seemed to thrive. Sometimes he wondered if he came across as too earnest or needy when he was trying to be a face. Maybe it was just that being a heel was so easy—and satisfying. It gave him an outlet to say everything he had thought and felt over the past few months and do it with relative impunity. His frustration with the fickle fans, his passionate defence of WWE, his bitterness over the Brock Lesnar situation: now he could spout off about it all and be justified.

If tapping into his dark side started to feel a little too good, a little too comfortable, now he had the reassurance that Becky was there to draw him back.

_As long as I keep the all-black wardrobe,_ he thought, grinning as he spotted her waiting for him outside the men's locker room—wearing leggings, as promised. When she saw him, she hopped down off the equipment trunk and smiled, cheeks already flushed. Even though they had been together for almost a year, he could still make her flustered and he loved it. He stopped right in front of her and kissed her before she could bite her lower lip. "I just need to get my bag," he murmured against her mouth, "and then we'll go."

"Okay." Her voice shook the tiniest bit, the way it used to when they had first started dating and were trying to hide it from most of the roster. When he stepped away, he heard her breath hitch.

Becky had barely moved in the time it took him to get his bag from the locker room and say his goodbyes to the guys who were getting ready to leave. Rather than holding her hand like he usually did, Seth wrapped an arm around her waist, letting his fingertips sneak under the waistband of her leggings. "Much easier than leather pants."

"I'm pretty sure you bought me those leather pants. . . ." Becky's voice lacked some of its characteristic edge when she replied, though. Since she wasn't quite sure what to do with her free hand, she mirrored him, sliding her arm beneath his jacket.

"I did." Seth let his fingers brush against her hip, making her swear under her breath. "Pretty sure I bought you these too," he added, strumming a finger along the side of her panties.

Becky chuckled. "Maybe. I can't remem—"

"We can check." Without warning, Seth grabbed her around the waist, swung her into a recessed doorway, and kissed her, sliding her leggings down over her hips. Glancing down, he smiled. "It's the red and black pair," he reported, tugging her leggings back into place. "I got those for you in Hawaii."

Becky looked like she was torn between smacking him and shoving her leggings down so they could fuck on the spot. She settled on giving him a gentle shove and retreating to the hallway, grabbing her bag with both hands to keep herself from giving in to temptation. "We're supposed to behave on site, remember?"

Seth merely grinned. "Heels don't have to behave, remember?" He caught up to her easily, keeping his hands to himself but letting their arms touch. "But if you want to behave all the way to the hotel, that's up to you."

"It's not like the hotel is far." As soon as Becky realized how she sounded, she swore again. "You're such a bad influence."

Seth didn't reply. He didn't need to. They had finally reached the parking lot and from the way Becky could barely hold his gaze for more than a few seconds, he knew it wouldn't take much to make her rethink their policy against having sex when they were at an arena. Once they reached their rental, Seth held out his hand for her bag. "Get in. I've got it."

Becky had barely buckled herself in by the time Seth was getting in the driver's side, and she had almost regained her composure when Seth settled his right hand on her thigh. "What are you doing?"

"Driving," Seth said with a roguish grin, pulling out of the parking area and into traffic easily.

"You . . . you should have both hands on the wheel. . . ." Becky pressed back in the seat a bit, but Seth simply moved his hand up higher in reply.

"It's not like the hotel is far." His smile shone in the darkness like a blade as he echoed her earlier words. Returning his gaze to the road, he inched his hand up again.

Becky couldn't press back any further against the seat, and Seth's hand had crept almost to the top of her thigh. "Seth. . . ."

"We're not at the arena," he replied. Now rather than moving his fingers up, he slid them across her thigh, trying to sneak them between her legs.

Shutting her eyes, Becky let out a long breath that almost sounded like a prayer. "Seth. . . ."

Seth was careful both to keep his attention on the road and to not let his fingers venture too far. He might be in the midst of a heel turn, but he also didn't need to be pulled over by the cops when he had his hand between his fiancée's legs. He wasn't moving his fingers and Becky wasn't moving against him, but the sheer, simple proximity—the realization of how close they were in more ways than one—had her breathing ragged. When he pulled into the hotel parking lot, Seth withdrew his hand so suddenly that Becky almost jumped. "You have your room card, right?"

Becky blinked rapidly as she processed his question. "Yes? Yes." She opened her purse to make sure and showed him. "Yeah, I got—"

He reached over and cut her off with a kiss deep enough that, if his hand had still been between her legs, Seth was sure she would have climaxed in seconds. "I have something to take care of first," he said as he sat back, relishing the dizzy haze in Becky's eyes. "I'll get your bag. You go up to the room—"

"I can take my bag—" Becky protested as a matter of course, but Seth kissed her again before she could reach for the door. 

"You go up to the room," Seth repeated, enough growl in his voice to make Becky shiver, "and make sure you're undressed and on the bed by the time I get there."

A brief bolt of confusion brightened her eyes before Becky caught on and then nodded. "I—okay. I . . . I can take my bag, though. . . ."

A slow smile crept across Seth's lips. He didn't want her having any distractions; knowing her phone was in her purse was bad enough. "I've got it. Go."

"Okay." There was a note of giddiness in Becky's voice as she stepped out of the SUV, almost stumbling over her own feet, and he watched her hurry to the front entrance. It reminded him of the early days of the relationship, when everything was new and heady and electric. Things were hardly stale for them now, but he hoped he would never forget that early dazzling rush of lust and infatuation.

Seth gave her an extra minute before he got out of the SUV, grabbed their bags, and went inside, making a few requests and arrangements at the front desk before heading up himself. Their suite's door opened into a sitting area, so he didn't worry about any passersby in the corridor seeing anything they weren't supposed to. Becky's shoes were tipped over by the door, so he put his there as well. Then he left their bags by the couch, draped his leather jacket over its arm, and headed for the bedroom.

Becky looked up from her phone in surprise when he entered. Most of her clothes were in a pile at the end of the bed, but she still had her panties on as she leaned against a long dresser. "I was just checking my messages," she explained, holding up her phone. "I heard my phone when I was in the elevator and I thought—"

"Anything important?" He pulled her to him and kissed her slowly, chuckling when she snuggled closer. She couldn't have been undressed for long, but she always liked to soak up his warmth.

"No." Becky went on tiptoe to press her face against his neck. "Just Charlotte aski—"

"Good." He eased her phone from her hand and set it on the dresser before picking her up and pressing her against the wall. "Because you didn't do as I asked."

Becky knew he would never let her fall, but she still wrapped her legs around him instinctively. "You didn't really ask so much as order—" Her rebuttal melted into a moan as Seth kissed her again, this time rougher and more insistent.

"You didn't do as I asked," Seth repeated with a sharp smile and a deadly calm, "so we'll just have to start here instead. . . ."

From the glint in Becky's eyes, she looked like she had no problems starting their night off there against the wall, on the dresser, in the shower, or anywhere else in the suite. But she still unlocked her legs from around his waist and started pushing her panties down with both hands. "Just give me a minute. . . ."

Seth waited until she had her panties down to her knees to scoop her up and pin her down on the bed. Monday nights had been his favourites ever since Becky had been on RAW, but he had a feeling that his heel turn was going to make them even better, on screen and especially off.


	36. Future, Tense

Since he came from a small town, Seth always found real fireworks—not the ones that drunken idiots tended to shoot off on the Fourth of July, but the city-grade kind—somewhat magical. Watching them bloom over the ocean while cuddled up on the beach with Becky made New Year's Eve even better. Helping Becky warm up when they got back to her place was the best part of the night, of course, but she had managed to sleep through her phone dinging incessantly while he hadn't. Since she was curled up against him, it was a challenge to grab their phones from the bedside table, but he eventually managed to get both. All he could do to Becky's was turn the volume down, but he didn't have to scroll far through Twitter on his to figure out why Becky was getting a ton of late-night—technically early morning—messages: Andrade had proposed to Charlotte.

Seth worried that the light from his phone would wake Becky up, but she barely stirred, so he looked at some of Charlotte and Andrade's pictures as well—avoiding the comments as a matter of habit. He knew they were somewhere in Mexico, and they seemed to be on a boat, dressed up as if they had just come from a fancy dinner. _And you proposed to Becky on some random-ass day while wearing board shorts._ He hadn't thought about those details much before; what had mattered to him was being in a place Becky loved, in a quiet spot where they could bask in the moment together without worrying about a bunch of strangers watching. His main goals had been not losing the ring and not saying something stupid.

"And you say _I_ spend too much time on the stupid Twitter machine." Rubbing at her eyes, Becky moved just enough to be able to look at his phone; her curiosity apparently didn't outweigh her desire to be comfortable. "Aw. He finally asked!" Becky smiled and kissed Seth's cheek. "Andrade called me a month or so ago and was asking some questions about Charlotte. I figured he was planning to propose soon." She started reaching over Seth's chest to grab her phone when she looked up at him. "What's wrong?"

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Seth handed Becky her phone. "Nothing. Just thinking."

Becky set her phone aside so she could hold Seth's face in both hands and make him look at her. "Don't. You're comparing things in your head. I know you are. Rings, locations, whatever. I don't care about that. I never cared about any of that." She sat up enough to kiss him, wrestling his phone away from him and going into one of his photo galleries. The one with all his pictures from Hawaii was easily one of the largest on his phone, both because he loved the scenery and he had taken an absurd amount of pictures of her. "Look," she demanded, holding the phone in front of him and dimming the brightness a bit to spare their sleepy eyes. "Am I happy? Are you happy?" She flipped through over two dozen pictures, some of them of her alone and others with them together, doing the most everyday things possible. When he finally nodded, she closed the photo gallery and gently tossed his phone to the foot of the bed. "That's what matters, isn't it? The glamour and all that makes Charlotte happy, and that's fine. I don't need it, and that's fine too." She kissed him again, pressing close and reaching with one hand for the blanket.

"I know." Even to Seth his voice sounded sullen. "But—" He started to gesture at Charlotte and Andrade's pictures before he remembered his phone was out of reach. That's what engagement photos were supposed to look like, weren't they? Not just like any other vacation photo where you had to zoom in to even see her ring. "I know that stuff doesn't matter to you—"

Shivering, Becky sat up, tossed her phone down by Seth's, and straddled his lap. "Does it matter to you?" she asked softly, resting her forehead against his. "When I say _I don't need it_ , that's all it means. If you want the fancy—"

"No." Seth wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer to his chest as he kissed her. "But we already get enough scrutiny. Now people are going to compare what I did to what Andrade did and. . . ." 

"Let them." Becky gave him a long kiss before nuzzling his neck. "I don’t care what anyone else thinks. Are you happy?"

Seth raised an eyebrow and chuckled. Becky was naked and in his lap, and they actually had a bit of time off; why wouldn't he be happy? "Yes. But that's not the—"

"It _is_ the point. It is _completely_ the point, you beautiful dope." Becky moved back just enough to reach between them and position his cock so she could ease down on him. "If it would make you feel better, though, you can re-propose to me each time we're in a different country. . . ."

"Re-propose?" Seth slid his hands down to her ass and urged her forward. Any insecurities he had about the proposal were completely his own; there was nothing she could do or say to dispel them. If they were both awake, though, they might as well enjoy the interruption.

Becky shrugged as she wrapped her arms around his neck and started to rock her hips gently. "People renew their wedding vows all the time. Why not do multiple proposals? I wouldn't expect a new ring each time." Her gaze faltered a bit as she added, "Unless you're having second thoughts. . . ."

"Never." Seth shut his eyes so he could concentrate on how good Becky felt, curling his fingers around her hips when she started to speed up. "Don't. Just . . . slow, please." He kissed her shoulder before resting his forehead against it.

"You're lucky I love you." Swearing softly in a mix of Irish and English, Becky slowed down, but it didn't stop her breathing from going ragged.

"I know I am." Becky had only been teasing, but Seth knew how fortunate he was. Some days he still couldn't believe she had ever agreed to go out with him, let alone accepted his proposal.

Becky's patience wasn't as strong as her endurance, but each time she tried to speed up, Seth thwarted her. It meant they came almost in unison, and she curled herself around him as she caught her breath. "I'm luckier," she whispered against his shoulder, cuddling in close. 

Holding on to Becky as best he could, Seth stretched out and drew the covers over them both. "Then I'm the luckiest." That was one title no one could take away from him, and he would work to be worthy of it—happily, willingly, gratefully—every day for the rest of his life.

*

When the dog food cans were brought out at the end of SmackDown, Becky had been ready to turn off the television, but the remote was on the other side of Seth and she was comfortable. Plus if she had tried reaching across his lap, they would have both been distracted, which they couldn't afford; they had an early travel day tomorrow and needed to get some sleep. Before she could start to complain, though, the Usos ran down to the ring and rescued their cousin.

"Good to have them back, huh?" Seth remarked, stretching as much as he could with Becky cuddled up to his side. "The tag team divisions need a boost." After he shut off the television, he set the remote on the bedside table and tugged Becky down under the covers. 

Seth wasn't wrong, but Becky still felt a pang. If the Usos were going to be on SmackDown, it stood to reason that Naomi would too. Becky found herself missing the SmackDown women's division more by the day, especially since RAW's creative team seemed to think that having Lana in a wedding parody counted as women's division content. "Yeah. I just wish we were all on the same show, though," she sighed, cuddling into him again.

"Roman and the Usos against me and AOP would be pretty sweet." When Becky didn't reply, Seth ruffled her hair. "What is it, Irish?"

"I just miss Naomi." That was certainly a big part of it, but Becky wasn't sure how to voice the rest. "I guess I just thought she and I could maybe go for the women's tag team titles after I lose Red, and now that won't be happening. Not unless there's a trade later in the year."

Seth kissed her forehead. "Nice try, but that's not it. Not all of it, anyway."

Becky didn't answer for a few moments, snuggling closer and hoping that Seth would let the issue drop. There were other ways to distract him, of course, but her moods showed up in sex just as much as they did in conversation, if not more so. "I feel like I'm treading water, I guess. I'm in the deep end, which is where I want to be, but everything that's happening—everything I helped build and want to be a part of—is drifting away, out of reach. And if I make the wrong move or go the wrong way, I . . . I worry that I'll never get back to where I was." Out loud, it sounded ridiculous, and Becky buried her face in Seth's chest, hoping he would take the hint and let her wallow until she finally fell asleep.

No such luck. Tapping out a random rhythm along her back, Seth kissed the top of her head. "Babe, you're not going to lose your spot. You're still one of the top merch sellers. Whenever WWE needs someone to represent them somewhere, you're still at the top of the list. Interviews, podcasts, appearances: you're on _everyone's_ wish list. Whenever you lose Red, it's not like you're going to go to the end of the line and only have matches on Main Event."

"I'm just worried I'm going to lose everything I worked so hard for." She whispered the words so softly even she barely heard them over the soothing, steady beat of Seth's heart. Her birthday was was coming up; so was the anniversary of her first kiss with Seth, the sweet and strange stretch of time when they started dating. The past year had been, with a few exceptions, one of constant highs. Didn't it stand to reason, then, that the only way things could go would be down? "I signed the new contract, so now if they decide—"

"Stop it," Seth urged, pulling her up so he could meet her eyes. "They didn't re-sign you just to bury you—not at the bottom, and not at the top either. You know Hunter has faith in you; you how proud of you he is."

The earnestness in Seth's eyes, even though it was fogged by sleepiness, softened the edges of Becky's anxiety, helping her relax against him. But kind words and some kisses could only do so much, and as the weekend wore on, her insecurity fortified itself. Even though she tried to avoid looking at nasty comments on Twitter and Instagram, there were always some that snuck through, ones with subtle barbs or backhanded compliments. By the time Monday rolled around and she found out she once again wouldn't have a televised match, her now-familiar fears crept back in. _I had my year. I was The Man, and now WWE's done with their little experiment and ready to go back to their formula blondes. Charlotte and Andrade will be the power couple Seth and I failed to be. And I'll be stuck here riding out a contract, buried in obscurity._

There was a glimmer of hope, though: a confrontation with Asuka. It wasn't as good as a match, but it was better than only looking into a camera lens. She was trying not to read too much into the subtle darkness and desperation Creative was gradually weaving into her promos, though. While she would welcome a proper heel turn, she doubted it was likely now that Seth was the Monday Night Messiah; if they wanted to keep her as a public face of the company, WWE wouldn't be pushing her storyline anywhere near his for a while.

The promo itself was good enough—not the most compelling, but at least it had something to work with—but as soon as Asuka came out, Becky felt her energy spike. Some of Becky's best rivalries might have been with Charlotte and Sasha, but Asuka's ferocity and cunning always pushed her to work harder. She didn't understand as much of the Japanese as she would've liked, but just watching Asuka strut to the ring was making more of an impact than some matches did.

And then she got to punch Asuka in the throat. Becky had to keep herself from laughing with manic delight: finally, around nine months into her reign, she was getting a true challenge. No more babysitting Lacey. No last-minute feud with Natalya. She was finally going to get the showdown she wanted. _Maybe they aren't trying to sabotage me after all,_ she thought as she sauntered backstage.

After she did a quick interview, Becky went to the locker room and got her phone. Seth was on near the end of the night and she had just been told she might get the dark match, so there was no sense in packing up yet. Her phone flashed with notifications and missed texts, but one message in particular made her smile. _What happened to punching ME in the throat for money?_ Sonya Deville had texted, adding an emoji blowing a kiss.

Between the punch and the text, her spirits rose a bit. This year might not live up to the last, but what could? She had fallen in love, main-evented WrestleMania, been a double champion, and gotten engaged, after all. But that didn't mean 2020 was going to be a barren wasteland. She would just have to make it her own, the same way she did when she became The Man. _Win the Rumble,_ Becky replied with a wink, followed by a fist, _and let's go._


	37. Messiah, Complex

"Should I be worried?" Becky laughed when Seth jumped a bit as she wrapped her arms around him from behind. "It looks like you have a new favourite ginger." Still grinning at his reaction, she peeked around his arm to look at Buddy Murphy, who was chatting with Akam and Rezar.

Seth turned around as much as he could and kissed her. "Never." Then he rested his chin on her head. "Hey, guys? I'm gonna take a few minutes with my wife, okay?" Keeping his arms around her waist, Seth shuffled her backwards out the door and into the corridor. "Buddy and I are winning the tag titles tonight," he reported. Normally they went to Creative together and talked about their respective matches afterward, but Paul Heyman had snagged Seth not long after they arrived and they hadn't had much chance to talk since.

Becky raised an eyebrow. "You two? Not AOP? They're planting the seeds of discontent a little bit early, aren't they?" Anyone who had watched WWE for long enough could spot the patterns in their storytelling.

"Yeah. Maybe they'll put us up against Undisputed Era before we split, though." Seth shrugged and kissed her again. Then he pulled back enough to show her his new shirt design. For him, it had an uncharacteristic amount of colour, but the stained-glass effect worked with the Monday Night Messiah gimmick. "What do you think?"

Leaning back to get a better look, Becky made a face. "Don't really care for it. You should take it off." He blinked in stunned confusion until she added, "The skinny jeans too. Once Batista wore them, it ruined the look forever. They have to go."

"Really? What else has to go?" Seth rolled his eyes as he pulled her closer, but she could tell from his chuckle that he didn't mind the teasing. "The leather jacket?"

Becky shook her head quickly. "No, no, that stays. The entourage has to go for sure. And—"

Seth cut her off with a kiss. "You're partly responsible for the gimmick, you know." She must have looked confused, because Seth laughed. "Do I need to redo your playlist again?" Every few weeks, he would add a bunch of music to her phone: new songs he thought she'd like, ones that reminded him of her, music for her workouts. "She's A God?"

" _Oh_." Becky tucked her head into his shoulder. The song was catchy enough and she had to admit she still had it on her phone, but the New Day had bugged her about it non-stop when Seth had first tweeted about it. "No. No, no, you don't get to pin your heel turn on me. . . ."

When she tried to pull away, though, Seth kept her close, singing into her hair. " _I'm her chosen one/ She's my deity/ And she's saving me_ —"

" _Stop it_." Becky burrowed in closer to his chest, trying to hide, but Seth stepped back, took her face in both hands, and kissed her long enough that they were both a bit dizzy after. "You need to . . . to _stop_ and go win those belts so we're champ champs again and then we can work on getting rid of that shirt."

"So you're saying I need to wear it more often? Because that's what I'm hearing—" Seth turned when someone cleared their throat, and they saw Buddy pointing toward a waiting camera crew. "Shit. Promo time." He gave Becky a quick last kiss before stepping away. "Keep working on that list. Maybe you'll give me some ideas for your birthday. . . ."

Becky laughed to herself as Seth, Buddy, and the Authors of Pain followed the camera crew to the staging point for their promo. The Royal Rumble was right around the corner and it was almost her and Seth's one-year dating anniversary; with all that on her mind, she had almost forgotten her birthday entirely. So much had changed in that time. Not even a year ago, they were sneaking around arenas, trying to find quiet corners where they could steal some time—and kisses—before a show; now, not even six months after Seth proposed, they were still being congratulated on their engagement. There was no guarantee she'd be able to keep her belt much longer—WWE didn't like the belt staying with one person for a year . . . unless that person was Brock Lesnar, apparently—but she knew she didn't need a title to make 2020 amazing. After so many years of chasing after success and happiness, she finally had both at the same time.

When she turned to go back to the women's locker room, Becky spotted Charlotte and jogged to catch up to her. "Ready for the Rumble?" she asked. "I won't be able to eliminate you this time."

Charlotte laughed as she pulled Becky into a hug. "Then maybe I'll get to win. Though I keep hearing rumours about Ronda returning. . . ."

The mere mention of Rousey made them both grimace. The Evolution pay-per-view and main event of WrestleMania had been incredible, but it felt like Vince had largely forgotten about the women's division ever since Ronda had left. "For me or for you?" Becky asked with a twinge. If she hadn't skyrocketed in popularity, WrestleMania would have been Charlotte versus Ronda, so she could see Vince trying to book his dream match again.

"Who knows?" Charlotte adjusted the sleeves of her ring robe before kissing Becky's cheek. "I know you won't want me to break character and wish you a happy birthday on Twitter or anything, but am I at least allowed to call you?" Then she gave her friend a wicked grin. "Or is Seth planning to keep you to himself all week?"

Becky gave an exaggerated shrug. "Not a clue. He hasn't told me to have my passport handy, so I'm guessing whatever he has planned is in the States. But I'll always have time for a call." She hugged Charlotte again before stepping back and winking. "Or I'd at least call you back after."

Charlotte burst out laughing. "That's more like it. Well, I can always call _and_ text the day of, and then just take you out for drinks when you're back. Messiah or not, he can't keep me from my Thelma for too long."

"I'm still waiting on that match, you know: Charlotte versus Seth Rollins," Becky teased. Even though they were both on the same show, it felt like they barely saw each other anymore.

"I'm not worried. I gave you jewellery way before he did," Charlotte scoffed. "I have dibs. Catch you later, Becks." Becky watched Charlotte head off to her interview and lingered in the hall for a moment, realizing she didn't have anything pressing to do. It was rare for her these days and she headed for the viewing area so she could take advantage of the lull. With all the Royal Rumble talk about potential returnees, Becky found herself wanting to reconnect with people who were already there more and more. It had taken almost six years for her and Seth to find the right moment, after all, so there was no telling how many friendships could be waiting in the wings.

*

_What a difference a year makes._ Seth had heard that countless times growing up, usually from relatives who hadn't seen him for a while and were marveling at how much he had grown. It had made him roll his eyes back then, but he felt the truth of it now. Before the 2019 Royal Rumble, he had been almost entirely focussed on winning so he could main-event WrestleMania. Then he and Becky had connected and everything changed. The WrestleMania dream was still there; he doubted it would ever really go away, not even after he retired. But now, a year later—with his proposal roughly near the middle, like a fulcrum—his life was opening up in so many directions. Rather than just fixating on WrestleMania, he was planning what to do for Becky's birthday and then Valentine's Day; they hadn't set a date for the wedding yet, but that was always in his thoughts too. Then there was his wrestling school and the half-siblings he had met last year. He was busier than ever and it should have been stressing him out, but the things that were making his life full were so much more rewarding now.

He wasn't winning this Royal Rumble. He had known that long before Creative told him, and he was fine with it. Drew had deserved a push for so long and it was good to see him finally get it. Seth was happy to help boost Buddy and AOP for a few months before the inevitable rift started. Until then, he'd revel in being a heel. If it meant he got to voice his very real complaints in a storyline context, so much the better.

Becky's match was right before the Men's Rumble, but she had been busy off and on filming clips for an upcoming special, so it wasn't until after her match that they really had a chance to talk. _The benefit of being the last man in,_ Seth thought; if he wasn't going to win, then he at least would be able to enjoy most of the match as a fan. Becky looked exhausted but happy as she left her interview, only lightly splattered with Asuka's green mist. "Congrats. I still think you should have countered with an orange mist, though," he said, kissing her cheek.

"Well, I guess most of the other colours have already been done: green, red, black. . . ." Becky set her belt aside and let herself lean against him for a long moment. 

Seth brought her stained hand up to his mouth and kissed it. "At least you didn't get the green all over this time. It's easier to get off—what?" He stopped when Becky started laughing. "That's not what I meant. . . ."

"You sure? Because last time you didn't seem to mind finding out how transferable the mist is." Becky was still laughing and Seth couldn't help but chuckle as well. Asuka had been testing different types of mist and Becky was often involved with the experiments backstage; one batch had been particularly vibrant and Seth had been curious, which had led to a messy quickie that—since he hadn't allotted enough time for a second shower—meant he had to do his promo with his leather jacket on in order to hide all the green smudges on his arms.

"Green's more your colour, Irish." Then Seth took her face in both hands and kissed her. Everything else about Becky—her smile, her energy, her sense of humour and adventure—was so big that it was easy to forget how short she was compared to him. "Your match is going to be amazing tonight," he murmured. "Best one of the show." When Becky didn't reply with a cocky retort or even a nod, he stepped back. "Everything okay?" He had been so wrapped up in developing the Monday Night Messiah trajectory that they hadn't talked much about Becky's current path.

"Yeah, I just. . . . What next, you know?" She gave a small shrug. "I don't want a repeat of Ronda or Charlotte. Naomi's going to SmackDown. I'd love to have a third big match with Asuka, but I doubt Vince will go for it. . . ."

Seth pulled her in close and rested his chin on her head. "I seem to remember someone saying that after last WrestleMania, she was going to make up some new dreams because she had such a large imagination. . . ." His tone was teasing, but he knew how important it was to her. Becky didn't want to be the equivalent of a one-hit wonder who had one great year and then faded away to become a trivia question. She had done so much to raise his spirits during his darkest times last year, and he hated seeing her confidence waver.

"Smart ass," Becky grumbled, even as she snuggled closer. They stayed like that for a while, silent and still, listening to the Royal Rumble clock count down with the crowd chanting along, and the huge pops when certain wrestlers made their entrance. When she finally stepped back, she squeezed his arms and laughed. "Aw. No green. I'll have to tell Asuka that the other formula was better."

"You mean the one that took you days to get out of your hair?" Seth leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I should go start getting ready. See you soon." As he walked away, though, another worry jockeyed for position in his already crowded mind, and he marveled that he had spent most of the past year with Becky at his side. Now they were starting the year together, the first full year of many to come, and his main goal was making sure she was happy from beginning to end.


	38. Bite Club

When Seth first saw Becky emerge from Creative, beaming and bouncing, he was delighted. He knew she'd been feeling restricted as of late, so it was good to see her happy with her storylines again. He hadn't been able to wait with her since he was now somewhat responsible for Akam, Rezar, and Buddy's trajectories as well—it was a lot of work, but definitely rewarding—but he knew she understood. The closer she got to where he and his so-called disciples were conferring with Samoa Joe and Kevin Owens, though, the more impish her smile became and he felt a twinge of worry. Whenever she got that look, it usually meant she was going to do something reckless. 

The first words out of her mouth confirmed it. "Guess who gets the ambulance angle tonight, lads?" She had her arms spread wide, and her giddy grin hadn't left her face for a second.

"What? Why?" Seth had just been starting to put his hair up in a bun, but he stopped so he would have his hands free. "Asuka's mist shouldn't do—"

"Yep, I get to steal the ambulance," Becky continued, face radiating smug pride as she pumped her fists. "Push around some EMTs. . . ."

Samoa Joe raised both his hands for a double high five. "That's my girl. You knock 'em flat."

"But _why_ does your spot need an ambulance?" Seth interjected, raising his voice to be heard over Joe's imposing bass. Given the secrecy surrounding the early days of his Monday Night Messiah turn, he wondered if Becky was purposefully keeping details to herself, but she seemed too excited for that. "Have they seen you drive?"

She ignored the first question and waved off the second. "That was one pillar in one parking lot. Like you haven't hit things before. . . ."

Kevin ignored him too. "You're going to use the sirens, right?" He looked like a little kid at Christmas waiting to open his most promising present.

Becky shot him a look. "Of course I'm using the fucking sirens! Otherwise what's the point?"

Then Kevin stood and motioned for a double high five of his own. "Fuck yes. The sirens are the best part."

"Will you two please stop encouraging my wife?" Seth growled, making Murphy turn to hide his laughter. "There is _an ambulance_ involved and I—"

Samoa Joe stood slowly, looming like a thundercloud. "She's not your wife yet, Rollins. Maybe an intervention is in order." Then he turned to Kevin. "Kev, I think we need to talk some sense into this good woman." Coming from anyone else, it would have sounded ridiculous, but Samoa Joe had the annoying ability to make anything sound imposing.

"Is Cesaro single? We should check on that. He speaks five languages, you know." Then Kevin pointed to Seth. "He speaks . . . what? One? Just English, right? Judging from that jacket, maybe a bit of 'pimp from _Grand Theft Auto_ '?"

Rezar, Akam, and Murphy were at least trying not to laugh. Becky's face flushed with the effort until she finally gave way to giggles. "That looks like it might be mine, actually, so I should probably take the blame for that. . . ."

"Taking your woman's jacket?" Samoa Joe shook his head. "What kind of fake-husband are you, Rollins?" Then he slung an arm around Kevin's shoulders. "Any minute now, he's going to lose it. Any minute. That'll even our odds up a bit."

Becky edged past the laughing Kevin and Samoa Joe to kiss Seth on the cheek. "Sorry. I'll let you get back to your planning."

Seth grabbed her around the waist before she could leave. "Becky, wait." If they'd been alone, or even some place with the tiniest bit of privacy, he would have pressed her against the wall and kissed her hard, letting his hands roam until she squirmed, but that would all have to wait. "Why is there an ambulance involved with your match? What's Asuka going to do?"

"Nothing. It's fine." Becky rose on tiptoe and kissed him long enough that Samoa Joe started clearing his throat quite emphatically. "Catch you after." Then she waved to everyone else. "Have a good one out there, lads."

After Becky was out of earshot, Seth glared at Kevin and Joe. "Seriously, you guys. Do you know why she gets an ambulance?"

Both his opponents shrugged. "Not a clue," Joe said innocently. "But at least it puts a smile on her face. Don't you want her to happy?"

"Of course I do. But _happy_ doesn't usually need an _ambulance_ , you know? Usually the opposite." Seth did his best to put it out of the mind, but it shadowed his thoughts until her match was on. Then he was fixated, overanalyzing every single move and set-up, trying to find the culprit. When Shayna appeared out of nowhere after the match and attacked Becky, Seth just barely stopped himself from swearing—but that was mostly because he was shocked speechless.

His disciples weren't there when Becky was bitten, but Samoa Joe was, and he gave an appreciative nod. "She's one of the best sellers on the roster—"

Seth knew it was true and he was always happy to hear Becky get the credit and compliments she deserved, but Shayna's attack eclipsed that. He'd heard the rumours about Ronda possibly returning, but Becky hadn't said anything about anyone else. "Since when does Baszler bite?"

Samoa Joe shrugged. "Never fought her, so I couldn't say." Then he gave Seth what would have been a companionable slap on the back from anyone else; from Joe, though, it made him stagger. "But look on the bright side. Fake blood cleans up easier than green mist, right?" When Seth nodded, Joe went on. "And Becky's all about kayfabe. That means she'll be sporting a bandage tomorrow to sell the bite."

 _Tomorrow?_ It took Seth a moment to remember the press conference for the Hollywood WrestleMania 37 announcement. "So?" He kept glancing towards the corridor, waiting to see the camera crew heading to the parking area.

"Some husband you're going to be, Rollins." Joe shook his head and started to walk towards Catering. "Think about it, Seth: There's no bite, but there's going to be a bandage." His smile took on a wicked edge. "That means if the bandage moves, the media will expect to see a bite. You follow me?"

It took a moment or two, but it finally dawned on Seth. "Yeah. I follow." A bite was something he could happily provide—preferably _after_ he and Becky had a little talk.

*

"WrestleMania is practically in your backyard next year." Seth was curled up close behind her, face pressed to her neck. With one arm draped across her hips and their legs tangled together, he was making it difficult for Becky to move, but she wasn't exactly trying to either. "That'll be nice, not having to celebrate in a hotel. . . ."

Becky murmured her agreement, keeping her eyes shut. The sunlight streaming through her window was bright and brassy against her closed eyelids, but Seth was even warmer and more comfortable. Some of the thoughts floating around her head weren’t quite so welcoming, though. WrestleMania 37 was over a year away; would they still be keeping two separate homes by then? It was certainly convenient now—it gave them home bases in two different parts of the country, one close to their favourite trainer and the other near Seth's family—and it wasn't like they couldn't afford to keep both. "Nice weather too." She reached up and stroked his beard idly. "It doesn't bug you that I have another appearance with Roman, right?"

Seth's arm tightened around her, making her sigh. They hadn't been able to simply just lounge in bed for a while, so she was going to bask in every second she got to touch him. "No. Of course not." He kissed her shoulder lightly. "You two are some of our best ambassadors right now. Besides, the Messiah isn't exactly face-of-the-company material, and I know that." Then he paused, nuzzling her neck and making her shiver each time he blinked. "Why? Did someone say something to you?"

"No. I just. . . ." Becky shook her head and started to turn around to face him, but Seth kept his arm tight around her waist. "What?"

"Look at your dress." Figuring Seth would distract her in the morning like usual, Becky had set out her dress for the press conference the night before; her make-up and hair would be done on site. It was a relatively simple dress, given some of the things she had worn of late: a black mini with mesh shoulders and sleeves. "Did you know about the bite when you chose it," Seth asked, "or is it just a happy coincidence?"

Becky gave a soft snort. Seth hadn't been pleased with the bite angle, even knowing that it was all fake. "You know that dress was picked out weeks ago," she retorted. "You were with me. You're not actually sore about the whole Shayna thing, are you?" She had assumed he was just trying to get his ego—and maybe a few other things—stroked, but if he was legitimately upset, she didn't want to make light of it.

"I thought I had exclusive biting rights, that's all." Seth pressed his mouth to the spot that would be covered with the kayfabe bandage and bit lightly.

"You know I have a bandage to put there, right?" It wasn't like Becky hadn't shown up with hickeys and other tell-tale marks before, but there was a big difference between a WWE event and a press conference.

Seth grinned against her back before biting again, a bit harder this time, deep enough to make her moan. "Yep. I'm marking the spot for iy. Joe pointed out how faithful you are to kayfabe—"

"You're taking sex advice from Samoa Joe now?" Not that Becky was complaining, really. Seth was biting one of the spots that made her melt, and she could feel how hard he was, and the conference wasn't really _that_ far away, so they had enough time. . . .

"Do I need to take advice?" Seth kept teasing the spot, licking it one minute and then letting his teeth just graze it before biting down. Then he would just blow on it gently, making her shiver, or kiss it so tenderly she barely felt his lips. 

She never knew which touch was coming next and she loved it; some non-wrestling friends had warned her that the novelty of sleeping with a wrestler would wear off, but it had almost been a year and Seth hadn't disappointed her yet. "You know you don't. _Directions_ , maybe," she teased, "but not advice."

"Directions, huh?" Seth pressed closer, entering her slowly. "I'm listening."

Becky reached behind her and grabbed a handful of Seth's hair. "Don't make too much of a mess for Make-up; the bandage isn't huge. And remember that my hair's going to be up. . . ."

Seth chuckled against her neck as he started picking up speed. "That's it?"

She hissed out a long breath as his hand started to roam. "I'm pretty sure you can figure out the rest on your own," she teased, shutting her eyes. Between the warm sunlight on her legs and face and Seth touching her nearly everywhere else, she felt like she was on fire. Whenever he bit and squeezed and pushed all at once, she would curse and shriek at the same time, pressing back against him as hard as she could.

"Not so hard on the hair, Irish." Seth stopped teasing the nape of her neck just long enough to nip at her wrist. "Unless you want me to shave my head. . . ."

Becky pulled her hand back and gripped her pillow instead. "Sorry. Sorry, I—" It felt like Seth's fingers were going to curl right around her hip and the more she writhed, the harder his thrusts became. Whimpering, she tried to pull her pillow closer, press her face to it to muffle herself, but Seth tugged it away and pressed her against the bed instead, not breaking his rhythm at all. She felt like dandelion seeds, ready to be cast adrift by the slightest breath.

"Too much?" Seth murmured by her ear. "I can ease up a bit if you want. . . ."

"Don't you _dare_." Her orgasm hit so suddenly that it took Becky a moment to remember she was in her own bed. Seth finished as she was catching her breath and then stretched out beside her. "I don't think I can move," she murmured when he leaned in for a kiss. "I don't even think I can feel my toes. . . ."

Seth sat up and grabbed one of her feet, tickling the sole. "They're all still there. You're good." Then he slid off the bed and kissed a trail down her back. "I'll go shower while you get your brain back. Just don't go back to sleep," he added, giving her ass a gentle smack for emphasis.

Becky huffed out a long breath and rolled onto her back, listening to the calming thunder of the shower. She stayed that way for a while, staring up at her ceiling until she could force herself to sit up. By the time Seth was done with his shower—and clothed from the waist down, she noted with bittersweet relief—she had made it to the edge of the bed and was just about to try standing up. "You better not have used all the hot water. . . ."

"Cold would probably be better for you," Seth grinned, stepping out of her reach as she staggered to her feet, "but no, I didn't. Get going, Irish. I have that podcast to do, remember?"

"If you want to be on time," Becky retorted, sticking out her tongue as she paused in the bathroom doorway, "then maybe you should stop listening to Joe." They both laughed at that; between the two of them, they had no problem thinking of ways to fill up their nights. When she actually looked in the bathroom, she had to smile. Seth had left all her regulars within easy reach: her favourite big fluffy towel, the shampoo she usually used when she had public events, the body wash he always kept stocked at his house as well. She kept the shower short and didn't fuss too much with her hair—she hated making more work for Make-up—and shimmied into the dress as soon as she smelled coffee brewing.

Seth already had a travel mug and a piece of toast waiting for her when she reached the kitchen. "Eat and go, Irish."

Becky kissed his cheek before gratefully taking the coffee. "Why? Make-up needs that much time with me to make me presentable?" she teased, tucking her phone in her purse before grabbing her toast. She had done it the other way around far too often after early-morning sex with Seth, and she didn't want to have to explain a purse full of buttery crumbs to a bunch of executives and camera crews.

"Never. But I don't want a lecture from Big Brother Roman either." Then Seth pointed to the gauze bandage Becky had left out on the kitchen counter the night before. "May I?"

"Behave." Becky flipped her hair out of his way and ate her toast while Seth opened up the bandage and stuck it in place. She hadn't taken a very close look at the spot in the mirror as she was changing, so she could only hope Seth's attentions hadn't been too obvious. After he stepped back, she turned her head back and forth, testing the sticking power of the bandage. "Good. Thank you." She let her kiss linger just a bit before brushing the crumbs off her fingers into the sink. "Okay. I'm ready."

Seth grabbed his keys and his phone. "Remember, if Roman says anything, it was all Joe's idea."

Becky rolled her eyes. "Right. Sure. Because you hated every second of it."

"About as much as you did, yeah." Seth nudged her out the door and towards his rental. They were spending enough time at her place now that he had talked about getting a vehicle to keep there, which made her happier than she wanted to admit. It meant he at least saw the appeal of LA, even if he didn't want to live there full-time. 

When Seth pulled up to the rendezvous point, Roman was already waiting, looking dapper in his three-piece suit. He held the passenger door open for Becky and rolled his eyes when he saw the bandage at the back of her neck. "Seriously, Irish?" Like a mother cat grabbing a kitten by the scruff, Roman brushed her hair to one side and peeled down an edge of the bandage. Then he turned his accusatory gaze on Seth. "Seriously, Rollins?"

Neck still craned at a slight angle, Becky smiled awkwardly up at Roman. "It was Joe's idea?"

Roman shut the passenger door and shook his head. "You two, I swear. . . ." Then he looped an arm around Becky's shoulders and pointed to one of the trailers. "C'mon. Let's get to Make-up before Steph finds us."

Seth tapped the horn. "When can I pick her up, _Dad_?"

"Watch it, _son_." Mindful of the camera crews milling about, Roman waved him off rather than giving him the finger. Once Seth had pulled away, Roman laughed. " _Joe's idea?_ Really? You expect me to buy that?"

Becky just shrugged, feeling her bandage start to give way. She'd have to ask the ladies in Make-up if they could tape it down. "See? This is what happens when we aren't all on the same show."

"No. _This,_ " Roman replied, tapping her bandage, "is what happens when you two get an idea in your _single shared brain cell._ Did you at least have breakfast?"

"A piece of toast." When Becky went to raise her travel mug, she realized she had left it in the rental; at least she had remembered her purse. "And some coffee."

"Well, at least that I can fix. Let's go, Irish. The sooner we finish," Roman added, "the sooner you can take off that ridiculous bandage."

Becky reached back and patted it affectionately. "You don't like it? I thought it went nicely with the dress. You know, like those back necklaces that were trendy—"

"Stop. Just stop."

Under the comforting weight of Roman's arm, Becky laughed. Roman's big-brother tendencies could get annoying at times, but she knew they came from a place of love. Wrestling was like a big extended family, after all, and it had given her an incredible fiancé and her sisters in the Four Horsewomen; an occasionally overbearing big brother was a good thing in its own way too.


	39. Down Payment on Violence

"I thought the whole _look at all my money_ gimmick was Sasha's territory now." 

Becky probably should have turned around, but she was too comfortable. Seth's chest was wonderfully warm against her back and even if his beard was getting a bit scratchy, being cuddled up with him was still her favourite place to be. "Like you'd pass up the chance to throw money around. Maybe that can be your next act as the Messiah: bestowing money to the faithful. _Believe_ ," she concluded with a faux drawl, " _and you shall be rewarded._ "

Seth kissed the top of her head and sighed. Their RAW rewatch was almost done, but neither of them reached for the remote. "Sure. But you don't want to turn into a walking meme, do you?"

"Well, if I can't have my puns. . . ." Becky did her best not to bristle, snuggling closer to hide any stiffness that hunched her shoulders. Being The Man was tremendously rewarding and definitely fun, but she missed having humour in her segments. She had managed some little hints over the past year—stealing Lacey's hat, bugging Corbin, even the curtailed Twitter war with Edge and Beth—but not nearly as much as she would have liked. It felt like being told to give a rousing speech, but only being allowed to use words found in children's books; smack talking was one of the biggest weapons in her arsenal, and she wasn't even being allowed to wield it properly.

It was foolish to think Seth wouldn't pick up on her pensiveness, though, and his arms tightened around her almost to the point of corsetry. "Sorry. I just don't trust Baszler. She's a lock to win at Elimination Chamber—"

"Just because she's a 'cage fighter' or whatever bullshit she wants to call herself," Becky snorted, "doesn't mean everyone else should just stay home." She didn't know why she was getting so worked up: she knew the company's rough plans for her for the coming months, so Shayna's win would hardly be a surprise. _Maybe it's because I WANT a surprise,_ Becky thought. Feuding with Asuka—with the added threat of Kairi—had been invigorating, and she was trying to think of ways to bring that same energy to her upcoming battle with Shayna. Online and off, though, many people were writing it off before they even had a chance to fight.

"Becky." Seth tilted her chin up and kissed her gently. "Is this about taking time off after WrestleMania?" he asked softly, tucking hair behind her ear. "You're not going to fall off the radar just like that. But if you're worried, we don't have to. . . ."

"I know." Becky twisted around until she was straddling him, and for the next few moments she focussed fully on kissing him: on threading her fingers through his hair, the contented little hum he always made when she settled against him, the way his hands seemed to span her whole back. He would be leaving for Saudi Arabia again in just over a week, and she ought to be basking in moments like this, not wallowing in worry. When she finally sat back, she was a bit light-headed and she kept her eyes mostly shut. "It just feels like the women's divisions are on such shaky ground right now. I know Bayley's defending at Super ShowDown," she added before Seth could interject, "but on RAW and SmackDown. . . ."

"You don't want to see your hard work go to waste. Or any of the work the women have done. I get that." Seth stroked her back in small, idle circles. "On the bright side, at least Shayna won't be like Brock. She'll be around to defend."

"And if Charlotte beats Rhea," Becky went on, "there's no point in me going to NXT to try getting the trifecta, because they'll never want to have two Horsewomen down there at the same time. And now if I _do_ ever go back, it'll just look like I'm in Charlotte's shadow again." 

"You need," Seth murmured, raining down kisses on her neck and shoulders, "to stop thinking so much." He pulled her in closer before letting his hands drift again.

Becky reached back behind Seth's head and slowly unwound his bun, letting his hair fall around her fingers. "Well, I was going to start thinking of surprises for you for your birthday," she replied, feeling the last of the tension in her shoulders melt away. "But if you want me to stop—"

"St. Patrick's Day comes first. Since I'm marrying into an Irish family," Seth grinned, "I need to start learning all the customs, right? I already ordered a _Kiss me, I'm Irish_ shirt."

"I bet it's black." Becky leaned in for a kiss. "You _could_ wear more colours, you know. You'd look gorgeous in green. . . ."

Seth laughed, pulling her in tight. "At least you didn't say orange. I think you've got a lock on that one." He slid his hands slowly up her back before dragging his fingers back down, digging in just enough to make her sigh. "Does that mean I don't get a surprise when I get back next week, or do you already have that planned out?"

"If I tell you," Becky countered, "then it won't be a surprise." Her mood dimmed a bit and she tried to keep it out of her kiss. She was proud when Sasha and Alexa wrestled in Abu Dhabi and when Natalya and Lacey were finally able to fight in Saudi Arabia; now the women were having a title match, and it had been announced with little to no fuss. No clip of Stephanie McMahon crowing about making history or the 'women's evolution'—just the quiet hope that one day such matches would be so normal, so common, that they would be mentioned in the same breath as the men's without any comment. Naturally she wished she were able to help make that history; if she couldn't, however, she could think of no one better than Naomi and Bayley.

Seth saw right through it, of course. "You're making history in different ways," he murmured against her neck, "and all of it matters. And you'll get that caliber of moment too. I know you will." He shut off the television and set the remote on the bedside table before pressing Becky against the bed. When she reached for his shoulders, though, Seth pulled back. "You wanted time to think," he said with a smart-ass grin. "I don't want to disturb you. . . ."

It made Becky think of a mug she had bought for Paige years ago. "I'm already disturbed enough?" she quoted with a laugh. Seth was right, of course. The McMahons were going to do whatever they thought was best for business; it was their guiding principle, not just a catch phrase. Creative would weave whatever stories they were told to. All of that was out of her hands. She could just do her best with whatever she was given. She had done it before, parlaying her feud with Charlotte into the launch pad for her success as The Man. Losing to Shayna—if it was truly inevitable—could be a similar opportunity, a chance to transform herself yet again. Besides, she could waste energy on needless worry or spend it in a far more enjoyable way. And since she and Seth were already in bed, it was an easy choice. "Thinking hours are done," she declared, pulling him back down to her.

"I think all thinking hours should be postponed," Seth replied, sinking into her, "until I'm gone. Give them a Brock Lesnar schedule."

Becky couldn't agree more.

*

_At least the plane trouble didn't have a sequel._ Seth only felt slightly guilty for thinking it. For Crown Jewel, Becky had been in Dubai, so it had been relatively easy to meet up with her afterwards—and he had still missed her. This, so close after her birthday and the anniversary of when they started dating, was much harder to bear. Knowing that some of the women—Naomi, Bayley, Lana—had gone to Saudi Arabia made it even more bittersweet. Becky had already done so much in such a short time to help move the women's divisions forward; he couldn't help but look forward to a day when they were on every card together, without any special requirements needed. For now, he would just have to be happy with no flight delays and getting back home to her without incident.

In theory, all the wrestlers had designated seats, but as soon as they were free to take off their seatbelts, many of them were wandering around, chatting with friends in other rows. Seth was sitting by Roman since they saw each other so rarely these days, but Roman had fallen asleep a couple hours in. Just as he was about to put his headphones on, Seth realized someone was standing by his shoulder. "Hey, man." Bayley gave him a friendly punch to the shoulder. Then she tapped his headphones. "You busy? Ready to zone out?"

Seth shook his head. Bayley was another friend he missed, and he could listen to music any time. "Nah, I'm good." He motioned to the seat across from him, vacated by another wrestler who had wandered off to chat. "Congrats again."

Bayley sat and raised her water bottle in a toast. "Here's to making history, right? I wish more of the girls could be here," she added with a sigh, "but this is something, right?" Glancing down the aisle, she waved at someone. "Hey, Naomi! Found him!"

"Oh fuck." Seth tried sinking further down in his seat, but there wasn't much leg room to begin with. "Bayley, don't. She's going to start asking about when the wedding is and when we're having kids and—"

"Hey!" Naomi bounced up and sat in the aisle between Seth and Bayley. The flight attendants wouldn't be around with the carts for a while, so several people were stretching out in the aisle, making their section of the plane look rather like an adult slumber party. The grin she shot at Seth was pure trickster god. "So, about those babies. . . ."

Seth held up his hands in surrender. "Talk to Becky, not me. That's on her schedule"

Naomi rolled her eyes and leaned back against Bayley's legs. "But I want to be an auntie!"

"You already are! And you've got stepkids." Seth jerked a thumb back at Roman. "He's got kids too. Why aren't you bugging Miz or Daniel for baby time? Just how many kids do you need in your life?"

"But those aren't _your_ kids." Naomi just kept grinning. "Come on. Like your babies wouldn't be little ring rats from the start, hanging out backstage at all the shows. "

Seth rolled his eyes. "So you're volunteering to babysit then?"

"YES!" Bayley and Naomi were in perfect unison.

"And I'm going to make sure your kids have some damn colours in their wardrobe," Naomi declared with an authoritative nod, "so they aren't wearing all black from day one."

Bayley tapped Naomi's shoulder eagerly. "Oh! Get them some glow booties like yours!"

"Girl!" Naomi half-turned in the aisle. "They make them! For real! I saw some the other day and I took pictures to show Becky." Bracing herself on Bayley's knee, she stood quickly. "I'll go get my phone and be right back. These boots are the sweetest thing, Seth, I swear." With that, Naomi bounded down the aisle to her official seat.

A moment later, Bayley stood and left her water bottle on the seat as if it were a flag staking a claim. "Wait—where are you going?" Seth asked. Part of him thought he should have just stayed quiet and maybe both the women would have forgotten about their baby fixation, but he knew he wouldn't be so lucky. _Maybe I should pretend to be sick and go to the bathroom. . . ._

Patting his shoulder, Bayley grinned. "Did you know there's a bunch of companies that specialize in making baby-friendly versions of rock songs? All instrumental, all toned down, but still totally recognizable. Rockabye Baby seems to be the most known one, but there's Twinkle Twinkle Little Rock Star and a few others. And there's a Pearl Jam one," she added, "which of course I bought to try because I know Becky loves them. I think I still have it on my phone, actually. I'm gonna go check. Be right back."

"See, this is why you put your headphones on and shut your eyes." The voice was low, but it still startled Seth, and when he turned to look at his friend, Roman's mouth twitched in a small smirk. "Naomi's going to be on you for at least an hour, man. You've been warned."

"Have you been awake the entire time?" Seth demanded.

Roman quickly adjusted his headphones and slumped back in his seat. "Who's awake?" Still wearing the subtle smirk, he made a small snoring noise that sounded annoyingly genuine.

Seth was about to punch his arm just as Naomi returned, phone in one hand and a catalogue in the other. "Is that boy still sleeping that hard? What the hell? Maybe he was up late talking with Galina. Whatever." Then she perched on the edge of Bayley's abandoned seat and opened up her phone's gallery. "I have video of the boots too, because they were too damn cute, but here's a few pictures. Aren't they the best?" Naomi smile was almost as bright as the light coming from the soles of the shoes.

_Becky would love those,_ Seth admitted to himself. He had already resigned himself to the fact that their kids would have ridiculous wardrobes, so the addition of light-up shoes wouldn't be much of a stretch. "They'd make the kids easy to find," he allowed.

" _And_ then they could learn to dance with Auntie Naomi, right? Right?" Just as she was about to open up the catalogue, Bayley returned. "Bay! Aren't these the best?" she crowed, holding her phone out to Bayley.

"They are." Then Bayley tugged gently on Seth's headphones. "Here, take a listen. I know 'Black' is one of her favourites. . . ." While Seth connected to her phone, Bayley queued up the song.

Roman gave him a small, soft jab with his elbow, but Seth ignored it. It would have been better if Becky had been there to help divert some of the baby talk, but he knew it all came from a place of love. Their kids would have the privilege three extended families—his, hers, and the WWE roster—and that wasn't something to take lightly, even if it did mean a shoe rack full of light-up boots. _Next time,_ Seth thought, listening to the familiar but altered melody of the song. _Next time she'll be here too._


	40. Loud Ginger Legend

"You know that coat is ridiculous, right?" Seth was grinning when he said it, though, watching Becky pull on the fluffy yellow monstrosity. "I mean, I understand the black and yellow look. The _Kill Bill_ symbolism. A nod to NXT, even. But this thing looks like it came out of the Godfather's closet, and not Marlon Brando's, you know?"

Becky slid her sunglasses into place and examined her reflection, adjusting how her chunky necklace sat along her collarbones. "Big words coming from someone whose jacket makes him look like he's a stripper cosplaying Shinsuke Nakamura, don't you think?" Then she came over and kissed him, tugging on the furry lapels of his jacket. "Just kidding. Shinsuke wouldn't bother with the fur. And he doesn't make the top bun look nearly as good as you do."

Seth pulled her in closer, barely able to find the contours of her waist under all the yellow fluff. "Gee, thanks. I guess the coat's not completely hideous. It went better with what you were wearing back at the hotel, though."

Becky's laugh was loud enough that Akam and Rezar both glanced over. "I wasn't wearing anything back at the hotel." She pushed her sunglasses into her hair and grinned up at him.

"Not true." Seth kissed her again, sliding his hands under the coat this time. The mix of yellow and black made him think back to their matching gear at Extreme Rules last summer. It was still one of his favourite matches with her, even with everything that cast a shadow over it—Baron's End of Days, Brock cashing in Money in the Bank, the petty criticisms of their relationship—and he hoped they would get to team up again. "You were wearing those red heels. . . ."

Becky rolled her eyes, but didn't move away. "I'm starting to think you have a shoe fetish."

"Too bad those boots are at home. . . ." Seth pulled her in close and rested his chin on her head. He knew she was still concerned about WrestleMania, but she was either coming to terms with it or just hiding it better. He hoped it was the former, because he didn't want her to fall into the trap that so many wrestlers did, defining their legacies simply by title runs. Some of the best, most iconic male wrestlers in WWE history had never held the heavyweight championship, and they were still beloved. "They go with everything."

"Or nothing?" Becky raised an eyebrow as she stepped back, ready to head to Make-up.

"I was getting to that." Cupping her face in his hands, Seth stole another kiss before backing off. "Have fun out there. I know it's not as good as a match, but it's better than nothing." Becky's main contribution to RAW that Monday would be sitting at the commentary table during Shayna's match, trying to build up some buzz for their WrestleMania bout.

Becky just smiled. "Plus I get to wear my lovely coat." Taking another step back, she did a mock pirouette. "Naomi and I are almost twins now. I just need some light-up boots."

Seth shook his head adamantly. "No. The ones you have at home are just fine."

Sliding her sunglasses back into place, Becky laughed. "If you like them so much," she quipped, heading to gorilla position, "maybe I should get you a pair for your birthday."

"St. Patrick's Day is first!" Seth hollered back, chuckling as she flashed him the finger and said something in Irish before turning the corner. His Irish was still minimal, but he had heard the phrase often enough from Becky, Finn, and Sheamus to figure out it meant something along the lines of _Fuck you_.

Murphy looked confused as he approached. "You two actually celebrate St. Patrick's Day?"

Seth shook his head as he turned back to his group to run through their arc for the night. "Nah. Just an inside joke." It had turned into something more since his 'Kiss Me, I'm Irish' shirt arrived, but he wasn't about to share details, even with a backstage friend. As much as he would have liked to have more on-screen interactions with Becky, he was enjoying the increased privacy—and reduced scrutiny—too much to push for another couples storyline. "Come on. Let's go do tonight's run-through with the guys." He caught himself just before saying _lads_ and chuckled to himself. 

When Becky went out to sit at the announce table, though, to both scout and distract Shayna, he made sure he was at one of the viewing screens. Her coat looked even brighter on TV and twice as ridiculous when she put on Lawler's crown, but somehow she made it work. Sheer confidence played a big part in that, but she had a presence that was undeniable. Even with her near-heelish levels of bravado—bordering on arrogance—she was still getting massive cheers. It was something he both envied and was awed by; if it were teachable, he would have had her giving lessons to each class that came through the doors at Black and Brave.

"It's a good look," Murphy said as he approached Seth.

Seth laughed. "Don't tell her that. She'll try entering the next King of the Ring tournament," he replied, "and then we'll have King Becky for a year."

Passing behind them, Aleister gave a dark chuckle. "You already signed up for King Becky for _life_ , friend. You better start getting used to it."

"You mean Zelina wears that weird flower crown thing at home?" Seth asked. Aleister and Zelina were one of those couples that didn't seem to make any sense until you saw them interact with each other.

Aleister mimed zipping his lips. "There aren't enough mysteries in the world. Enjoy the ones we still have."

Murphy shrugged as Aleister continued on. "Because that wasn't cryptic as hell or anything."

Seth watched Aleister for a moment before shaking his head making his way to the gorilla position. Because of the scheduling of their different promos, he wouldn't have much time to talk with Becky before the show was done, but he'd only need a minute to ask her to bring the coat home with her. The details—or the mysteries, as Aleister might call them—could be worked out later.

*

"You _are not_ driving that."

Becky jabbed Seth in the ribs as they both gazed up at the big rig emblazoned with her image and monikers. "And why not? My names are all over it." She ran over to the huge front tire and gestured proudly up at her portrait. "Look! They even got the jaw line right!"

"Because you barely even like driving a car, let alone something this size." Seth shook his head, and Becky wasn't quite sure if it was out of exasperation or wonder. "You need a special license to drive one of these, you know."

"Details, details." She did know that, unfortunately, thanks to Hunter's many pointed reminders. With the high, tinted windows, the RAW cameras wouldn't be able to get a good shot of the driver, so her official entrance would involve the driver—one of the WWE truckers who had helped relocate some of the equipment to the Performance Center for the empty-arena editions of SmackDown and RAW—doing the majority of the work and then ducking out of the way so Becky could hop down from the driver's side. "Think they'll let me keep it?" It was originally intended for her WrestleMania 36 entrance, but Stone Cold Day was almost as good, not to mention more fitting.

Seth laughed and pulled her in close. "Who . . . no, wait, don't answer that. I was going to ask who else would want it—except me, of course," he added hastily when Becky poked him in the side. "But I don't think I want to know."

"Stone Cold and I are practically twins now, you know," she beamed, standing back as the driver climbed up into the cab and maneuvered the large truck into position so it could be covered until it was time for the reveal. The Performance Center wasn't designed to be a full-event venue, so the skeleton crew was forced to multi-task and make a lot of adjustments.

"The resemblance is uncanny." Kissing the top of her head, Seth steered her into the building. It wasn't clear if he was going to get a segment, but Becky had a promo to shoot and would be closing out the surreal show with Steve Austin, so she had to prepare. "Just don't drink too much. I might be your designated driver," he quipped, "but I can't carry you _and_ all the bags."

Becky gave him a playful shove. "Social distancing!" The news about the virus was changing by the hour, but her thoughts—and her worries—always turned back to her father. His health was already on shaky ground and with all the travel blocks in place, she might not even be able to get back to Ireland if she needed to. "If all the pubs are going to be closed, then I'll just have to celebrate St. Paddy's Day early with Steve, that's all." With a quirked smile, she added, "And you know I handle beer better than you do. Last time you had a Steve-weiser, you walked straight into a wall."

Seth rolled his eyes as he hugged her. "That was _one time_."

"Details!" Becky sing-songed. Then she sobered somewhat, resting her head against his chest as they walked. It felt so eerie to be on the precipice of a RAW taping and not have the usual hustle and bustle. The crew was in good spirits, but it all felt a bit like the indie days when you didn't even know if people were going to show up to the event. "Crazy, huh? So much has happened since we first came here. . . ."

"Championships, WrestleManias. . . ." Seth laughed a bit at that. WrestleMania 36 was still up in the air. The current stance was that it would also be held at the Performance Center, but there were rumours swirling about it being delayed for a more appropriate venue as well. "Us."

Becky knew her smile was probably a dopey one, but she didn't care. How many conversations had she had with Seth during their early days of training, talks that started with her drowning in tears of frustration? How many times had they given each other tips or exchanged work-out music? How often had she discreetly admired him as he was working out, not just for his body—although that had always been something worthy of appreciation—but also for his dedication and skill? Coming back to the Performance Center, especially if WrestleMania did end up happening there, should have felt like coming full circle, but to Becky it felt more like a fork in the road. These strange circumstances were going to alter paths and change plans in ways no one could possibly predict; some of the best moments in WWE's recent history had been born from improvisation, whether it was due to travel delays or unexpected absences and injuries. "We might not need to take time off after WrestleMania," she said as they reached the stage area and looked out at the rows upon rows of seats that wouldn't be filled. "I can't see Vince playing to empty arenas for long."

"Lynch." Hunter's harried voice made them both stop and glance back. He had a cell phone in each hand and looked like he needed a twenty-hour nap. "They need you in the parking lot so they can sort out some details for the truck entrance."

"Be right there." Becky gave Seth a quick kiss and ducked her head as Hunter barked out a laugh and kept walking, bringing one of the phones back to his ear. "Good thing social distancing wasn't a thing at this time last year. We would have either broken up—"

"Or really enjoyed quarantine." Seth kissed her again, lingering now that Hunter had moved on. "Catch you later."

"Don't forget I'll probably need a second shower after all the beer." Then Becky hurried back to the parking lot, marveling at how far she had come since her first days at the Performance Center. Main-eventing WrestleMania, working with legends she adored, falling in love: all those things had been dreams then, and she had made them real. If she could handle them, playing to an empty arena and possibly reinventing herself after this WrestleMania were nothing to fear. They would be opportunities, not obstacles.


	41. Of Messiahs and Men

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTE: When I wrote this, I didn't know Roman and his wife were expecting another set of twins. I could have edited it in, I suppose, but I decided to leave the scene as it was.

Everywhere Becky looked around Seth's home, it seemed like there was a screen. Television or tablet, laptop or cell phone: virtually all the rooms aside from the bathrooms were connected. The irony, she supposed, was that usually they had so little private time together that they coveted it, hoarded it, and kept their screen time to a minimum. Now that they were essentially in isolation, they were relying on those same screens to keep them connected to family and friends. Most surreal to her were the video chats with fellow wrestlers. Normally they saw each other on a weekly basis—more often than their own families, at times—but now they barely saw each other at the show tapings even when their matches were back to back, simply because of the stringent protocols.

"I wish you were going to have a proper Mania," Becky told Drew, drawing her legs up to her chest and resting her chin on her knees. Main-eventing WrestleMania 35 would forever be one of her fondest memories, and she hoped all her friends were able to experience the same high at least once. If things had been different, she had no doubt that Drew's match against Brock Lesnar would have been the main event, and she would have happily stayed until the very end to watch it unfold.

"I know." Drew sighed as he leaned back in his chair and reached for something off-screen. "But at least I'll get the match. That's more than a lot of guys get, so I'm grateful." Then he grinned. "Besides, look at the Irish and Scottish taking all the gold! Me, you, Nikki—and then when you factor in NXT, we're damn well taking over!"

"Oh, be nice. We can include Pete too. I know he's English," Becky began, "but he's a good lad."

"Who's a good lad?" Seth called out, walking up behind her. Unless they were doing interviews or fitness chats—or not fully dressed—neither of them minded making an unintentional cameo during a call. Bending down to rest his chin on Becky's shoulder, he waved. "Hey, Drew."

Drew covered his eyes with a hand. "You ought to warn a person before flashing that mug around," he laughed. "The abs at least have some style."

Becky turned to kiss Seth's cheek. "Not a fan of the man bun, Drew?"

"Then that just means I have less competition," Seth replied as he straightened up. He and Drew didn't get mistaken as often as the Usos did—their builds were too different—but it was always vaguely amusing when it did happen. "How are you feeling about your match?"

"Good, good. Obviously not what I had dreamt of," Drew added, "but what can you do?" A beep on his end made him glance off-screen. "Ah, sorry. I have to take that. Good luck with your matches."

"You too. Take care." Becky disconnected and leaned against Seth. "Who do you want to call next?"

They didn't get a chance to discuss it, because a beep signalled an incoming call. "Roman, I guess," Seth replied, pulling up another chair as Becky answered the call. "Hey, bro."

"Oh, hey, Seth. Didn't see you there, man. Hey, Becks." Roman looked tired, but otherwise well. His WrestleMania disappointment wasn't going to be the lack of a crowd for his big moment, but rather that the moment wasn't happening at all; due to his health, he had bowed out of his title match against Goldberg. "How are things in the Man Cave?"

Seth shot him a look. "Don't encourage her. We were _finally_ getting her away from the bad puns, man!" Shaking his head, he leaned back and slung an arm around Becky's shoulders. 

"Hi, Roman. We're good. He's still trying to get me to watch _Game of Thrones_." Becky gave Seth a quick peck on the cheek. "I told him he has a picture of me on the throne, so that should be good enough for him."

Roman laughed. "You know he's going to keep asking until you at least watch some, right? Just watch until the dragons show up. . . ."

"But _Harry Potter_ has dragons too! And . . . it's laundry day," Becky countered quickly, bumping against Seth as she laughed. "I'm running out of leggings."

"A true tragedy. I bet Seth's hiding them in hopes that you'll just start walking around the house naked." Roman downed a long swig of water and tossed the bottle from hand to hand after he put the lid back on. Even with daily exercise, he was clearly restless.

Seth squared his jaw and stayed silent for a long moment. "You know, I'm starting to miss the days when my friends _didn't_ like my choice of girlfriend." He moved a bit to the side as he said it, but Becky didn't elbow him in the ribs. There were very few of his friends that she had met who didn't like her, and she knew that made him ecstatic.

"Bold words when your wife's right there." After their laughter died down, Roman sighed again. "It's going to feel weird to not be there with y'all. Everything about this is weird, but to not be at Mania at all, not even backstage. . . ."

"It won't be the same without you, man," Seth agreed. "I'm glad we're still doing something, but I can't wait until we have audiences again."

Becky rested her head against his shoulder and looked up at him. "And then you won't be stuck with me all day, every day?"

Seth kissed her forehead. "It's good practice. And a reminder that I really needed a new coffee maker."

Roman started laughing so hard he nearly fell off his chair, and Becky could hear his wife calling out in the background, asking if he was okay. "Yeah, baby, I'm good. Seth, are you seriously telling me you didn't have a decent coffee maker after asking this woman to marry you? It's bad enough that you didn't have a toaster, man!"

"What is it with people and the damn toaster?" Seth exclaimed, laughing despite himself. "Maybe burnt bread just isn't my thing, you know?"

Becky cupped a hand beside her mouth as in the faux-whisper pose. " _And_ he doesn't like mint chocolate! Can you believe it?"

"Maybe it's time to reconsider your engagement, Becks. I'm sure Big E likes mint chocolate—" Roman couldn't even finish without laughing again.

Seth reached across Becky and let his hand hover over the keyboard. "Oh, what's that? You're breaking up. There must be too much internet traffic in the area. We'll have to talk later. . . ." When Becky batted his hand away, he caught her wrist and pulled her over onto his lap.

"You can't get rid of me that easily, man." Roman was still smiling, but it was slightly wistful. "Damn, I miss you guys. SmackDown's great and all, but it's not the same without you. When all this is over and it's safe to travel, you have to come down and visit the family." His smile brightened a bit as he added, "And not just because JoJo wants Becky to sign about ten posters, three dolls, five action figures, two Funkos. . . ."

"That's like a whole signing event!" Becky was smiling as she said it, though; Roman's kids were some of the sweetest she had ever met. "How's everyone on your end?"

Roman shook his hair out and ran a hand through it. "Hanging in there. Galina and JoJo are good. Having a bit of cabin fever, but I think pretty much everyone does. It's hard explaining it to the boys, though. They keep wanting to visit Grandma or go play with friends and they don't understand why they can't." Then he shook his head. "I feel so bad for Nikki and Brie right now too. It's a tough time to be pregnant."

Seth held up his hands. "Don't look at me! I made sure I was stocked up on condoms before things got crazy." Becky smacked him lightly on the arm, but he just shrugged. "C'mon, Irish, it's not like he thinks we're going through so much laundry because our Scrabble games get really intense."

"I don't even want to know how you'd make Scrabble perverted, man." Roman shook his head as if to dislodge the thought before it could take root. "I should probably go give Galina a hand with the jids," he said at last. "Just wanted to check in and make sure you two were good."

"We are. You take care of yourself so we can see you soon," Becky replied, adjusting her perch on Seth's lap. "Who knows how long we'll be wrestling out of the Performance Center? We might end up renting some place just to cut down on travel." She could feel Seth vehemently shaking his head behind her and she laughed. "What? You lived in Florida for years!"

"Yep. And now I'm done." He gave her a loud kiss on the cheek. "Take care, Roman. We'll talk soon."

"Will do. Good luck at Mania." After they said their goodbyes, Roman signed off, leaving their laptop screen black once more.

"Are we calling anyone else," Becky asked, "or are you all talked out?" They both knew it was important to keep in touch and check in with people, especially family, but the constant sitting could be strangely exhausting. "I know I want to call my dad," Becky added, looking at the clock and doing some time zone calculations, "but he's probably still at the doctor. I'll try in an hour, maybe."

Seth shut down the laptop and closed the lid. "I'm good for now. I talked to my mom and my brother this morning, and Renee said she and Dean would call tonight around eight our time, so I vote for taking a break."

Becky turned around on his lap as best she could, mindful that they were sitting on a chair that wasn't really meant for two. "I'm glad we're together," she said softly, cupping his face in both hands. "I know the calls and the chats help, but I would have missed you too much."

"Same." Seth snaked his arms around her waist and pulled her in closer so they could kiss, but even that tiny shifting of weight was enough to make the chair protest, and they almost toppled to the floor. "Up," he declared, securing his grip on her waist as he stood. "This spot is okay for interviews, but when we're talking to friends, maybe we should take it to the couch."

"First you're trying to get me to walk around the house naked," Becky teased, dangling from his arms, "now you're trying to get me on the couch. I've almost been champ for a year. You better not get me pregnant before I reach my milestone."

"What's the actual date?" Seth feigned trying to remember, as if WrestleMania 35 wasn't as etched in his memory as it was in hers. "April 7, right? That's just a few more days. . . ." He started walking her towards the living room/

"You heard what Roman said about the Bellas. . . ." But Becky knew Seth didn't need the warning. They had talked about pregnancy and kids often enough, both in passing and in serious conversations, and they had both agreed that waiting would be better. There was so much they both wanted to do, and while they would unconditionally love an unexpected baby, they would rather get other things in place first. "Well, at least I wouldn't have to worry about you succumbing to Lacey's wiles, since she's on SmackDown now."

"Don't even say that." Seth sat heavily on the couch, drawing Becky down onto his lap as he kissed her.

"And Liv's back now. And Nia's due back soon." Becky frowned a bit at that. "As long as she doesn't try to make it WrestleMaNIA and fuck up my match with Shayna." Since they were taping in advance, they were taking advantage of the rare opportunity to film multiple endings to matches. It was mostly a way to try limiting spoilers from being leaked, but it also gave them time to improvise—a perk they usually didn't have when live. "At least I don't have to worry about Sarah, because the Viking Raiders would crush you."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." They kissed lazily for what felt like an hour until Seth's phone rang. "That's Marek. I should get that," he said, gently sliding Becky off his lap so he could go find his cell phone.

Warm and slightly hazy from kissing Seth for so long, Becky curled up on the couch and let her eyes drift shut. She wasn't used to so much time inside or not interacting with people in person, and all the downtime was strangely draining. They tried to work out as much as they could and keep busy with interviews, but she was so accustomed to life on the road that seeing the same walls day after day was almost eerie. Without Seth to anchor her, she wasn't sure how she would be taking it. As she drifted off into a nap, she tried to think of something she could do to thank him for putting up with her restlessness—preferably something that didn't involve eight seasons of binge watching.

*

_First and foremost, I'm a fan_. It would be hard to find a professional wrestler who didn't share that sentiment. Until the recent spate of ex-MMA fighters and bodybuilders arrived, wrestling wasn't a fallback profession: it was something you chose, something you fought and bled for, toiling for years to catch your big break. Seth was no different. He still had ticket stubs and old merchandise, memories of watching pay-per-views with friends and trying to emulate his favourite wrestlers. He knew what Roman meant when he said it would be weird to not be backstage, but in a way Seth was looking forward to watching WrestleMania in its entirety at home, at the same time as all the fans. It had been a while since he had simply enjoyed a big-scale wrestling show for what it was, for what it was meant to be. Watching himself might be a bit surreal, but that was part of the wrestling experience; the whole sport was larger than life, bordering on absurd at times, so why shouldn't he—an avowed agnostic—claim to be a messiah? Why shouldn't Becky, whose driving mistakes were well known, get a custom semi for her entrance? It was all about the show and if WWE couldn't put on the show it had meticulously planned, the company was putting its all into doing the next best thing.

"Your match is starting!" Seth called out. Becky had gone into the kitchen for another beer and she returned with a can for each of them. "Did they tell you which ending they're going to use?" He assumed she retained her belt, if only because she wasn't acting like she had lost her best friend.

Becky shook her head as she snuggled back against him. She got cold every time she got up off the couch, but she also steadfastly refused to change out of her Stone Cold tank top. "Worried about leaks, most likely" she laughed. "That's probably why Nattie's on the pre-show tomorrow. Did they tell you anything about yours?"

"Just that they're going with one that has the restart in the middle." In all honesty, Seth didn't want to know. He already knew all the possible outcomes, but he liked the idea of the ultimate result being a surprise even to him. Initially his focus was solely on the match, but Seth quickly realized Becky wasn't as engaged as she usually was with her rewatches. "Hey." He shook her leg gently before grabbing his beer. "What's wrong?"

"I just can't shake the feeling that the match would be better with an audience," Becky sighed. "I know the crowd's not sold on Shayna yet, but I think we could have got them invested."

"If the feud continues," Seth assured her, "you will. You helped Lacey get over and you livened up a match with Natalya with virtually no lead-in."

"Thanks." Becky didn't brighten up much even after her win, though; she seemed far more interested in Sami Zayn's match with Daniel Bryan. "How long until Cesaro or Shinsuke betray him, do you think?"

Seth jerked a thumb to the living room window. At that time of day, people were usually out walking their dogs or kids were running to or from their friends' houses; now a car drove past maybe every half an hour. "If things were normal, maybe another month or two?" The SmackDown tag team ladder match was next, altered because Miz was sick, but Seth was still impressed. "Imagine the pops this would be getting with a live audience," he marvelled. "It would be insane." It wasn't his style of wrestling, but he could definitely appreciate the artistry and hard work that went into it.

Becky's mood perked up after Seth's match was announced. "You never even let me see your gear," she wheedled. "You saw my fancy truck and my jacket—"

"I wanted it to be a surprise." Waiting until she had set her beer back down, Seth cuddled her close again. "Roman thinks you'll like it."

"Oh, so _Roman_ gets to . . . see—" Becky's tirade trailed off before it ever really began, her gaze riveted to the screen as Seth walked out to the ring in his white messiah gear. "They let you wear all white again? I thought Vince hated it." Seth expected her to turn and kiss him senseless, but she was too busy watching his ring entrance. 

"They had bigger issues to bitch about this year," Seth pointed out, "and even Vince had to admit it went with the character." Pressing his face into her hair, he added, "I even smuggled it home."

"You look very good in the jacket . . . top . . . thing." Now she turned and kissed him, hungry and slow. "Of course, you look good without it too."

"You're just hoping I'll walk around the house naked," he retorted. The start of the match stayed mostly the same in all its incarnations, so Seth took the time to keep the kiss slow. Now that they weren't having to hurry in hotels, he was definitely appreciating that sex could be a more leisurely affair; on the days when they had no interviews scheduled, sometimes they didn't get out of bed until noon, simply basking in the freedom to enjoy each other as much as they wanted.

"Absolutely." Becky turned just enough that she could still watch the match out of the corner of her eye. "I'm guessing they're going to let Kevin get the win."

Becky was in his arms, in his house, and they were getting uninterrupted quality time together; as far as Seth was concerned, he didn't exactly lose. He wished their time together hadn't been the result of a widespread virus, but if he had to be stuck at home, at least he could be with her. He barely looked up when Kevin's music hit, but hearing Braun Strowman's was bittersweet. He had nothing against Braun, but Seth would have loved to watch his Shield brother win the title again. When he pulled back enough to look at Becky, she seemed equally wistful. "That should be Roman," he said softly.

"I know. But he'll get another shot when it's safer. When he can actually enjoy a title run." Becky settled against him again, resting her head on his chest. "I just hope Braun wins so the title's back on the show again."

Seth eyed the collection of plates, take-out boxes, and beer cans on the table. "Should we clear some of this away before the Boneyard Match?"

"Why? You want to make out while AJ's getting buried?" Becky teased, heaving herself off the sofa and testing all the beer cans to see which were empty.

"Considering how often he's given me the _You better treat her good, Rollins_ speech," Seth replied with a dry chuckle, "no, I want to see him get buried. We can make out after, though."

"That's very generous of you." Once she had set all the empty beer cans to one side, Becky shut the pizza box and started placing all the cans on it like a serving tray. "Don't worry," she said when she saw Seth flinch. "They're all empty. Nothing to spill."

Between clearing the coffee table and sorting the trash, they made it back to the living room just as the Boneyard Match was beginning and though they cuddled together out of habit, tthey made themselves behave until the very end. "There's no way they could have done all of this if it had just been the one night," Seth remarked. "And we would have missed out on some good matches."

"Kinda makes me miss the branded pay-per-views. But at least I'll get to see my girls tomorrow." Then she wrapped her arms around Seth's neck. "And I get you for the rest of the night. So where have you been hiding that ring gear? Because I've been here a while now and I haven't seen it. I _know_ I haven't, or else I would have made you wear it. Considering all the times I've worn those boots you like," she added, "I'm overdue."

"But you look incredible in those boots." Seth had made sure she had a pair at his place and hers, and thinking of them now made him wonder what other fun things had been left behind in Los Angeles. With all the uncertainty of self-isolation, it seemed a world away. "Maybe you should become a manager like Zelina so you could wear them—"

"No." It was definitive but not sharp, and Becky softened it further with a kiss. "Now, about that gear. I can even make do without the pants," she added with a grin. "When we get married, maybe _you_ should wear the white and I can wear the black."

"You can wear whatever colour you want," Seth declared, pulling her towards the closest guest room. "I'm wearing black." It wasn't as spacious or comfortable as the master suite, but part of their isolation schedule had included having sex in every room of the house. He was pretty sure they already had done three complete laps, excluding the unfinished area of the basement, and WrestleMania weekend seemed like a fine time to start the fourth. But Becky grabbed the door frame and held firm. "What?"

"The ring gear," Becky insisted. "Put it on. We've only got twenty-four hours before Night 2, you know, and I have plans for you in that top."

"Plans?" Seth raised an eyebrow. "You didn't even _know_ about it until a couple hours ago!"

Becky just grinned. "I'm good at improvising. And I'll show you just how good once you put on that gear. Deal?"

It was all bluster on his behalf, of course; most of their teasing was, because neither of them ever really lost. It was all playful, give and take, and Becky had a point about the boots; they couldn't be that easy to walk in, yet she humoured most of his requests for her to wear them. "It's upstairs," he said at last. "So you'll have to go all the way up the sta—"

"Done." Becky gave him a quick kiss before darting past him up the steps. "Master suite? Too simple. My room? I would have spotted them by now." 

Standing at the top of the stairs, Seth watched her reason her way through the mystery, going in and out of rooms. Finally she put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "Okay. I give up. Where did you hide your gear?" Becky hated conceding defeat, so she was either truly stymied or really just that horny.

Seth pointed behind her to the linen closet. "If you actually dried off with towels," he laughed, "instead of a bathrobe or . . . well, _me_ , you would have spotted it days ago." He walked around her, still in her indignant pose, and opened the linen closet. The white ring gear was folded in such a way that the coloured accents weren't visible, so if you didn't notice the gloss of the jacket, the gear almost blended in with the neutral towels.

A huge smile blossomed on Becky's face and she kissed him as she tugged the ring gear out of the closet. "Okay. Well played, babe. Well played." Then she shoved the folded outfit against his chest. "Now go get changed."

"And what do I get?" Seth retorted, shaking out the folded pants and jacket.

"Future considerations." It was their stock answer, but Seth still loved it, just like he loved the prospect of a future with Becky. This wasn't the post-WrestleMania vacation they had been hoping for, but at least they were together to make the best of it. 

Plus Seth knew exactly where he kept Becky's boots.


	42. Endure and Let Go

"You told me there would be dragons."

Seth waited until one of the sound technicians walked past to draw Becky into a hug. With all the quarantine conditions they had to meet in order to compete, she was one of the few people he could be in close contact with outside of the ring. They'd always been physically affectionate, even when they were just friends, but now that they weren't supposed to even come within six feet of so many people, he found he was hugging her as often as he could. "And there are—"

Becky shot him a dark look. "Not until the end of season one! _The very end!_ That's false advertising, I tell you."

"They show up more later, I promise." Seth rubbed her back, feeling just a twinge of guilt. Having so much quiet, personal time with Becky was a gift and he knew that, especially at such a relatively early stage in their relationship. It was just another reminder that it was a blessing that they were in the same industry, the same company. So many of their co-workers were avoiding contact with their families to keep everyone healthy, while he got to see his fiancee every day. They both tried not to rub it in, and unlike their attempts to keep their relationship a secret just over a year ago, they were doing a somewhat decent job. 

"They'd better. And I'm not telling you who my favourites are anymore," Becky added, "because then you make that face, and that means they're going to die."

Seth rolled his eyes. "Babe, it's _Game of Thrones_. Most of the characters die. That's not exactly a spoiler. And don't start with Sean Bean. Most people can't name a movie where he _lives_ , so he doesn't count."

"You're lucky you're not getting married in Ireland, Rollins." Drew gave Becky an amicable nod as he approached, but Seth got icy, narrowed eyes instead.

"Why?" Glancing between Becky and Drew, Seth tried to understand what link his now-delayed marriage had with _Game of Thrones_. "You're Scottish, she's Irish," he said, pointing at each of them in turn, "and Sean Bean is . . . English, isn't he?"

Drew crossed his arms across his massive chest. "He is. I was more talking about the curb stomps you've got lined up for tonight."

Becky glanced up at Seth. "Plural?" A feud between Seth and Drew was one of the few original plans to survive all the changes WWE was making due to the virus outbreak, and that alone gave a little bit of normalcy to an otherwise chaotic time. 

"Two." Drew shook his head as if he were disappointed. "Honestly, Rollins, if it takes two of them, then maybe you should take a run at someone else. Braun has the belt over on SmackDown now," he added with a cocky grin. "Maybe you'll have better luck with him. You don't really want to mess with the Celtic contingent, do you? Me, her, Sheamus, Finn—"

"Nikki, Killian, Jordan. . . ." Becky gave a low chuckle. "It could make visiting my family very awkward for you."

Seth kissed the top of Becky's head and laughed softly. Her family had welcomed him warmly whenever they'd been in Ireland, but he still had trouble at times with the accents. It didn't help that Becky's was subtly different than her father's and her mother's, which both different slightly from each other—at least to his ears. "So has the Irish Mob infiltrated wrestling then, or—"

Drew thumped his chest so loud it sounded like it should hurt. "Scottish," he reminded him. "And you're lucky she's not, or she might have you wear a kilt at your wedding."

"You know, you non-Americans laugh at our patriotism and whatever," Seth replied, "and then you turn around and make factions based on your countries."

"Well, that's just because Ireland is amazing. And Scotland too," Becky added, motioning to Drew. "We can add Wales and sneak Tegan in there too. She's a good lass."

Seth went quiet for a moment, listening to Becky and Drew toss names back and forth, their accents gradually getting thicker since they didn't have to worry about being understood on a microphone. Before he could interject, someone from Wardrobe poked her head around the corner. "Seth? If you've got a minute, we had to make some adjustments to your jacket."

"Sure. Be right there." Seth turned Becky around and hugged her, lifting her up so she gave a little yelp before grabbing his shoulders to steady herself. "The Messiah's jacket needs tending," he said. "I'll catch up with you later."

Drew rolled his eyes. "Oh god. We've got another Rock on our hands, talking about himself in the third person. Just you wait until I raise your two curb stomps with a couple of claymores."

"You mean the kicks you count down so everyone can hear—while we're in an empty arena? See you out there, man." After checking that Becky hadn't sneaked his phone out of his pocket, Seth headed to Wardrobe—but not without taking a quick glance back. Becky's laughter rang out, and not just because so few people were allowed in the Performance Center at one time. Her accent was as thick as caramel and he felt a slight pang that she didn't let it out more often. He knew she had drawn criticism for being difficult to understand, but in an era when Asuka shouting in Japanese on commentary was largely well received on Twitter, surely people could handle some Irish or Scottish?

Then he had to laugh at himself. If he could be with her almost every day and still have problems with how she said certain words or how her accent got thick when she was tired or excited, the casual audience definitely would. "Thanks for coming so quickly," the Wardrobe intern said. "You didn't have to rush. Your promos aren't being filmed for another half hour."

"That's fine." Seth leaned up against an equipment case and looked at his jacket. For all the jokes it inspired, it was strangely growing on him. "I'm guessing the brass don't want me carrying the white over from WrestleMania?"

The intern shook her head so vigorously that her glasses bounced on her nose. "We tried. You know, thought you could tie it into spring and light and new beginnings, but I guess they're going with familiarity at the moment." Then she shrugged. "Can't blame them, but with all of us spending so much time at home, something new on the screen might be welcome, you know? Even if it's just a new look." She spread the jacket out on the equipment case. "The faux fur kept coming off, so we had to sew it down. I tried to get the knots on the underside so they wouldn't bother you, but I couldn't do that at the back of the collar. Let me know if it bugs you too much and we'll come up with something different." Looking a bit flustered, she opened the jacket and gestured to the lining. "And the water or oil or . . . whatever you've been using on your chest was staining the lining a bit, so I added a more absorbent layer. It's just plain black, so it shouldn't be too noticeable."

"Sorry about that. I should have thought of that before." Seth stood up straight and shrugged into the jacket, testing the range of motion in the sleeves. If anything, the new lining was softer, so he couldn't complain there; he couldn't feel the knots the intern had mentioned at all. "It's great. Thanks for all the work you've done."

"You're welcome. It's nice to have something to do. I'm pretty sure Netflix is going to stage an intervention for me soon." The intern gave an awkward chuckle. "Your tights are waiting for you over there," she added, pointing to a folded pile. "We fixed up the lettering where it came loose and also reinforced the stitching, so it shouldn't be a problem again."

"Thanks." Seth draped his wrestling tights over his arm and headed back to where Becky and Drew had been talking, but they were already gone. Walking through the back felt strangely desolate, even though all the noises were louder and the equipment seemed larger somehow. Without the hustle and bustle of so many people, only cords stretched across the floor at odd intervals and equipment crates stacked wherever there was a spare bit of wall, it almost felt like a ghost town.

Seth made sure to catch the women's Money in the Bank qualifiers in between his promos, and kept a keen eye on the matches involving NXT talent. Most of them didn't win—Austin Theory was an exception, but he was under Zelina's wing now, it seemed—but they put on good matches and it was better than having two guys who had wrestled each other dozens of times. "Don't go too hard on Drew." Seth almost jumped when Becky leaned against his shoulder. "Or else he might not play the bagpipes at our wedding."

"And that's supposed to inspire me to go lightly on him?" Seth didn't have anything against the bagpipes, necessarily. He just thought they were better in their native environment: outside, stirring up the blood of warriors, heralding battle. Or maybe just not at his wedding, yet another thing delayed by the virus. Every time Becky talked to anyone from her family, he was reminded of how much she had been looking forward to them all coming over for the ceremony.

"The bagpipes are a noble instrument!" Becky declared proudly, hugging his arm. "I bet you the dragons would like them."

_Her and her dragons._ Seth shut his eyes and shook his head. "If they did, it would be because the bagpipes sound like dying cattle. The dragons would probably think they had found an easy snack."

Becky wagged a finger. "They haven't met Scottish Highland cattle. Very hardy. Ginger too." Naturally she took out her phone and started showing him pictures. "And look at the babies! The calves! Smug little bastards, aren't they? So cute."

"No, you can't have one," Seth said automatically. Seemingly endless days of quarantine had caused Becky to start campaigns to get various animals. She had started with pugs, of course, and she'd actually had some sound arguments: since they were home more often than usual, it was the perfect time to get and house-train a new dog, or even just foster one for a while to take some strain off a shelter. When those efforts didn't succeed, she had started asking for increasingly unlikely animals, no doubt hoping that the pug would seem downright reasonable in comparison.

"But we'd match! You know how they say people start to look like their pets? I'd already be there!" Becky flashed him a winsome smile. "Or you could just get me a pug—"

"We'll talk later." Seth cradled her face in both hands and gave her a slow kiss. _I'm so glad all this didn't happen last year,_ he thought as he pulled away. Their relationship had progressed pretty fast as it was, but he didn't think they would be at the 'moving in together' stage quite yet when the quarantines were enacted.

The promos had been a little blank-eyed and eerie—he'd tried to channel the strange emptiness of the Performance Center—and Seth wasn't sure whether to carry that energy through to his confrontation with Drew. The tables had turned in some ways: back when Drew was Dolph Ziggler's back-up, he had ambushed Seth, and Seth had Dean at his side. Now Dean was gone and Roman was on SmackDown, and his disciples weren't there. It was just him, for better or worse.

The second curb stomp was easier than the first, even if he didn't think it looked quite as good on the replay. "It's fine," Becky assured him, curled up beside him. "You were great, as always."

The compliment was genuine, he knew—Becky didn't believe in false praise—but it didn't register the same way it should have. WWE was one of the few shows not relying on replays or out-takes to fill their time slots, so they had a built-in advantage, but he still wanted to do his absolute best as much and as long as he could—and that might not be much longer, if things continued to worsen. He was determined to make each match, each appearance matter more than ever.

And maybe ask his mom to phone around and see if any animal shelters had a pug in need of a home.

*

As the quarantine and self-isolation periods stretched longer and longer, Becky started to notice a bleakness to the days. She did her best to combat it by keeping busy, either working our or reading or taking her online acting classes; Seth's presence made everything better, even if he was playing video games in one room while she was off doing something else. It was a strange domesticity, but it usually felt soothing instead of smothering.

She couldn't shake a sense of unease when they found out about WWE's upcoming announcements. Since they were alone at Seth's gym, Becky felt safe enough to obsessively refresh her Twitter feed and her email in a constant loop, along with checking her texts to make sure she didn't miss a notification. "This sucks," she said flatly, sitting down on a weight bunch and staring down at her phone. "I mean, I understand the math, I guess, but these are _people_. They could get rid of Lesnar or Rousey or Goldberg and those guys would all be fine, but that's not who they'll gun for." When Seth stood beside her and started rubbing her back, she let herself lean into the touch for a few moments. "Sorry. I know it's out of my hands. I just keep thinking—and I don't mean this in the selfish way—that if this had been two or three years ago, I'd be on that list. And I mean that in the sense of what break-out star are they going to let go just because they don't see what that person can be yet?"

Seth dropped into a crouch and hugged her. "I know what you meant. There's no way to tell who's going to pop big like that, and a lot of the people at the top don't know how to see the beginnings of that. They don't follow your Twitter machine," he said with a slightly teasing smile, leaning in to kiss her. "Or Instagram or whatever, so they don't know who's getting themselves over on their own."

"It's so frust—" When Becky heard the first ping, her heart sank to her stomach. Between her phone and Seth's it was like a chorus of insects chirping, though she doubted the notifications meant anything good. "Shit. Gallows and Anderson?" Becky paled a bit. "They were just at WrestleMania!" Would it make their WrestleMania moment in the Boneyard Match bittersweet, or would they be glad they had one last hurrah?

"Hawkins, Ryder, Drake Maverick, Heath Slater, Rusev. . . ." Seth's subdued tone made it sound like he was reading out a list of soldiers fallen in battle. It was almost impossible to keep up with the updates. Some came from the wrestlers themselves, either in a public Twitter post or a mass text sent out to friends and fellow wrestlers. 

"Maria and Mike. I guess that's not surprising, but still. . . ." Becky kept scrolling, shoulders hunching more by the second. "Erick Rowan. Lio Rush. Sarah Logan?" That made her sit up straighter. "The women's division needs all the help it can get, and they're cutting her?" Maybe it was because she had been an underdog herself, but Becky found herself rooting for the women like Sarah and Sonya and Dana, the ones who hadn't quite caught the right person's imagination yet. With a little bit of development, Becky had thought Sarah could go far, especially since she had a persona like no one else's.

Beside her Seth went suspiciously still, and he started stroking her back again. "Look at the list of producers. I think most of them are just furloughed," he added, knowing that wasn't necessarily much better given the circumstances. "Except for Kurt, but—"

"Finlay?" Becky almost dropped her phone. "What the _fuck?_ " It wasn't just that he was Irish or even a friend, responsible for her late entry into the 2019 Royal Rumble. He had been given the women's division to develop—as a joke, she was sure, or maybe a punishment—and treated all the women with such respect that Becky had never heard a bad word said about him. Without his support and hard work, women never would have main-evented WrestleMania or had tag team championships or achieved half the things they had under his guidance. "What are they _doing?_ "

She and Seth would be safe. Part of her felt a bit arrogant for assuming that, but she knew it was true. WWE wasn't going to axe its money-makers, the ones with their faces on the trucks and their feet on red carpets and their merchandise flying out of the shops. Charlotte and Roman would be safe; Naomi and the Usos should be. Most of her closest friends shouldn't have anything to fear. But it still felt gutting to know that so many wrestlers had been working through the quarantine only to be cast aside. 

Seth sat beside her and just held her for a few minutes while their phones continued to chirp. When she reached for hers to text Finlay, Seth held her hand. "Later. Just sit for a minute."

Becky forced herself to relax against him. His shoulder was as comfortable as always, his chest just as reassuring, but the world outside the circle of his arms suddenly felt like a maze of thorns deprived of too many roses. "I need to work out. I need to move or something," she said, resting her forehead against his neck. "I need something to do." Feeling useless was her Kryptonite and while she knew there was nothing she could have done about the roster cuts, she still needed to work through her feelings about them.

"Let's keep it easy today," Seth suggested, kissing her forehead as they stood. "Now's not the time to get injured."

There was never a good time for an injury, but Becky had to agree. Just a month or two ago, they were working on wedding plans—slowly, steadily, shyly even, as if they didn't want to let on how sappy they truly were—and now they had to say goodbye to friends and colleagues they had known for years, in some cases decades. Part of Becky wanted to go to the punching bag and pretend it was Vince McMahon's face, but that wouldn't solve anything, not to mention it might make her more likely to unintentionally slug him the next time she saw him. She concentrated on a simple CrossFit routine instead, including some of her favourite exercises so she could rely on memory.

Sneaking looks over at Seth helped too, and not just because he was gorgeous. _He's still here. He's here and he's safe and he's okay,_ Becky kept telling herself. Each time she thought the words, she breathed a little easier.

She was just starting the last exercise in her circuit when Seth came over, phone in hand. "I keep trying to think of something to post, but it all sounds wrong."

Becky set the ropes down and hugged him tightly. "Just say what comes to mind. What's in your heart. Nothing makes much sense right now anyway—not in WWE, not with the virus. People are going to twist your words anyway, so you might as well say what you mean, right?" She was still better at weathering social media criticism than he was, but he was slowly but surely learning to weed out hate from the genuine criticism. She pointed to a weight bench off to the side. "I'll be right here," she told him, abandoning the ropes on the floor; she could do an extra workout tomorrow as penance.

Sitting on the bench, Becky brought her legs up to her chest and rested her chin on her knees, watching Seth prepare himself to make a video. As soon as he started, she was careful to stay quiet, turning the sound off on her phone as yet more updates and condolences popped up from across the industry; she didn't want to distract him or throw him off his train of thought. His speech was full of pauses and hesitations, looping around at points, but there was no doubting that it was heartfelt. Some of the tweets she read were disheartening, with people saying WWE deserved to fail; others suggested some other full-time wrestler should be cut to spare their favourite or said that some of the wrestlers who had been released deserved to be let go. Eventually she shut off Twitter and went to Instagram instead, following the comments on Seth's video. When she could tell he was coming to a close, she shut off her phone and padded over silently, staying out of the shot. "I liked that," she said softly. "It was honest. There's going to be a lot of bullshit out there, so it's good that you were genuine."

His eyes were still sad as he looked down at his phone, though, and it was Becky's turn to sit beside him and embrace him. "More hate," he said, huffing in frustration. "More people twisting words." He almost tossed his phone to the side before Becky laid a gentle hand on his arm. "I can't say anything right for them."

"Yes, you can. You can." Becky pressed closer, resting her cheek against his back. "You can't control what other people think or how they're going to take things. You can only do your best. If they want to read things into it that aren't there, they'll do that no matter what you say."

"I know. I just—" Seth squeezed Becky's hands where they were joined around his waist. "Let's go home. Kevin doesn't twist what I say."

"I'm sure he would if it meant he would get more treats," Becky teased, kissing the back of his neck before he stood. "Go clean up. I'll get everything put away." The anguish was taking more of a toll on him than his workout had.

It was only then that Seth noticed the abandoned ropes. "Did you want to finish up before we go?"

Becky shook her head. "Missing one element won't hurt me. I'll make it up tomorrow." With a lopsided smile, she added, "I'm sure Joshy will understand."

That made Seth look at his phone again. "Pretty sure he texted too. We're going to have a lot of people to get in touch with when we get home." He shook his head with a mixture of confusion and despair.

"We'll get it done," Becky assured him, nudging him towards the locker room. "Go ahead. I won't be too long." When Seth didn't even offer a come-on, she knew he was truly upset, so she did a quick circuit around the gym. They had mostly used the same equipment and they were good about cleaning it as they went along, especially with the current virus concerns, so there wasn't too much to do. _Plus it's his gym, so no one can really tell him off._ After she put the ropes away, Becky took one last look around the gym, deemed it acceptable if Marek or someone else came in to work out, and then headed for the showers. 

Since it was just her and Seth, they didn't bother using both locker rooms, and Becky started peeling off her workout clothes as soon as she was out of sight of the windows. She could hear a shower thundering steadily and she left her gear in a heap on one the bench beside Seth's clothing. For simplicity's sake, they brought only one bag with them to the gym, and it was tucked under the bench, flap half open. Seth didn't look up until she touched his arm, and he took a moment to clear water from his eyes. "Thank you," he murmured, words almost lost to the flow of water.

"Anytime." They kissed, but it didn't go much farther; that could wait until they were at home, back in comfortable clothes and hopefully in better spirits. For now, it was enough just to get clean, to let the water ease some physical aches while they helped each other with the emotional ones.


End file.
